


Sweet Sister Temperance

by Desade, Eviscera



Series: Ouchy-Verse [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, F/M, Fingerfucking, Genderbending, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, You can do WHAT?!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desade/pseuds/Desade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eviscera/pseuds/Eviscera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set later the same day as #1 Crush.  Loki is still fixated on Clint's imagined interest in those of the opposite sex.  This raises some questions, and reveals an answer that blindsides our poor archer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Sister Temperance

Loki was very quiet on the ride home from the coffee shop.  Clint chalked it up to the remnants of caffeine deprivation and the afterglow of their tryst in the alleyway.  Little did he know that behind that stoic expression, Loki’s thoughts were churning.

It wasn’t necessarily that  _particular_ woman who had set his mind in turmoil.  His Hawk had convinced him through words and actions both that she was not what he desired.  Yes, Loki had taken great offense to the way she had attempted to draw Clint’s attention.  And even more so to the brazen way she had thought it within her right to lay her hands upon that which was his.  

What truly troubled the god was the thought that Clint would begin to miss the affections of the fairer sex and perhaps tire of him.

And at the heart of his worry was the fact that while Loki possessed the means to provide anything that Clint desired, he had yet to reveal such to the archer.

True, there was much that his Hawk did not yet know.  And as time passed, Loki’s secrets became harder in the telling.  What determined a lie by omission?  And what set that apart from simply not yet having broached a particular subject?

Loki sighed to himself as Clint pulled into the underground garage and parked, collecting their bags and beverages prior to exiting the vehicle.  He trailed slightly behind the archer as they entered the building, pondering how he might go about revealing something of this magnitude.

Closing the apartment door behind them, Loki moved to the couch as Clint headed to the kitchen to put away the extra containers of coffee he had purchased.  The god sank down upon the cushions, still deep in thought and conflicted about what step to next take.

The longer Loki stayed quiet, the more Clint wondered what the real issue was.  True, he was never a chatterbox and felt no need to fill every waking moment with conversation, but he was rarely  _this_  absorbed in thought.  Not without a reason.

Clint sifted through his memories of the last few hours, trying to pinpoint exactly when Loki started to zone out.  It was a difficult thing to pin down, as it was hard to tell when Loki was being his usual stoic self, pouting, or pissed as hell.  The god had a poker face even Natasha would be jealous of.  If he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking, they damn sure weren’t going to know.

He had to admit, he was a little put out that Loki was still keeping things from him.  Especially things that upset him to the point of shutting him out completely.  He’d thought things were settled back in that alleyway, but there was obviously still something bothering him.

Shutting the cupboard, Clint ambled back to the living room.  Loki sat on the couch, feet tucked up under him, staring into the corner of the room in such a contemplative way that Clint doubted he actually saw what his eyes were pointed at.

Stifling a sigh, Clint shed his jacket and kicked his boots off before seating himself beside the troubled god.  Loki didn’t seem to notice until the cushions shifted, and only then did he turn his eyes on his Hawk.

“What’s eating you, Princess?” Clint asked.  “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Forgive me,” Loki murmured.  ”It seems that my earlier outburst has made me…pensive.  It has raised some questions, and I do not particularly like the places my mind takes me when I am in such a state.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Clint replied.  ”But remember, Loki.  We’re in this thing together…and that means if something is bothering you, then we should talk about it.”

With a heavy sigh, Loki shifted on the couch, turning to face Clint more fully.  ”Yes, I know.  And  _you_  must remember that I am still growing used to the idea of sharing all that is in my head.  It is simply…not in my nature.”

Clint frowned expansively at Loki before saying, “C’mon, Loki.  We’ve covered a lot of rough ground in our time.  What’s going on?”

Loki’s gaze shifted to the side before swinging back to his Hawk and spearing him with a pointed gaze.  

“Do you,” he began hesitantly, then paused and took a deep breath before continuing.  ”Do you miss being with women?”

Clint blinked, and instantly, his mind dove into memories of his past conquests. 

They’d been nice enough.  He’d had no reason to complain at the time.  He’d learned fairly early on what was supposed to happen, what went where and why, and after that, it was easy enough to find someone with which to practice. 

There was no hiding his appreciation for the female form, there were just certain things hardwired into him _._ That would probably never change.  The rounded swell of a hip or a pair of long, shapely legs could distract him from just about anything.  That hadn’t stopped simply because the one person he’d decided to take up with just happened to not possess the softer feminine traits.

But did he  _miss_  it?  He thought again of the women he’d been with, and held them up against his new standard, and decided that, even though they might have all their womanly charms, they were simply too  _fragile_ to truly hold his interest.  Of all the women he’d been with, only one had ever been able to hold her own when he finally let himself go.

And that was never happening again, so he didn’t see why it would matter in the long run.

“Is this about that girl at the coffee shop?” Clint finally asked.  “I’m not interested, I thought I proved that pretty much a hundred percent.”

The twist of Loki’s mouth told him he was not pleased with his evasive reply. 

“Yes, you more than proved your lack of interest in what she was so blatantly offering,” Loki huffed.  ”This is not about  _her_ , per se.  She was simply the catalyst for my curiosity.  But then you tell me I must share what I am thinking, and when I do so, you sidestep my sole question?  This does not comfort me, Clint.”

Clint ran one hand through his hair, and gave Loki a contemplative stare before questioning, “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Precisely what I asked.  Do you miss being with women?  Is that something you…crave?” 

Loki leaned back into the cushions, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched his Hawk closely.  His pulse was thundering in his ears as he waited while Clint mulled over his words.

Honestly, he’d never thought of things in such a black-and-white context.  When he’d decided he wanted to be with Loki, it hadn’t even occurred to him that he would be giving something up. 

Thinking on it now, however, Clint was loathe to admit that the god had dug up something he would have preferred not to know about himself; that even after attaining the one thing he’d always believed beyond him, he still wanted something  _else_. 

Selfish was too tame a word for what that was.  He looked over at Loki and found he couldn’t hold his eye without feeling the guilt creep up to choke him.  He tried to tell himself that he couldn’t help it, it wasn’t like he was _looking_  for someone else.  Still, that one question had taken root and was starting to spread, and Clint found that, yes, in a way, he  _did_  miss it.  Not in any profound way; he certainly wouldn’t die without it, hell, he wouldn’t even be tempted if a naked woman walked through the front door and sat directly in his lap.

Well, maybe he would, for a brief moment.

But, he had Loki.  He wanted  _Loki_ , not some soft, delicate woman he’d be afraid to bruise.

He could almost feel Natasha’s hand upside his head for that last thought, and silently rescinded.

So now he was caught within Loki’s sights, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t cause the god’s temper to explode or cause him to retreat once more.  He didn’t want a repeat of what happened at the coffee shop, once a day was enough, thank you.

“I guess, maybe.  A little,” he finally admitted, unable to look Loki in the face.

He could tell from Clint’s inability to meet his eyes that the archer spoke the truth, and he felt that familiar ache rise in his throat at the fact that even in this, his Hawk wished to spare him any pain.  There was an edge of guilt to Clint’s voice; in the halting manner of his words, and Loki said quietly, “Look at me, please.”

Clint raised his eyes to meet Loki’s, steeling himself at what he might find contained within.  And he was shocked to see the god smiling warmly at him in return.

“You needn’t feel badly for owning up to your more base urges, especially considering the body wants what the body wants, with little thought to the emotions attached.  You have done me no wrong in admitting such, Clint.  I asked you for the truth, and that is what you have delivered.”

Clint gaped at Loki for a long moment, and the god reached out to take the archer’s hand before saying, “You seem surprised to find that I am not raging over your admission.”

“You’re… not mad?” Clint asked.  Loki’s fingers tightened around his by way of answer.  “What the  _hell_ , Loki?  Why are you even asking me this?”

“Would you be angry if my answer was the same?” Loki asked in answer to Clint’s first question.  He chose to disregard the last two as rhetorical.

Clint’s eyes narrowed and he levered a searching gaze on the god sitting before him.  “Is it?” he asked.  “Is that why you’re asking me?  Please don’t tell me this is your way of asking me if you can fuck someone else, because I am  _so_  not okay with that.”

Normally, a question like that would inspire his wrath, but Loki merely regarded his Hawk with a calm amusement that his question would spark such an outlandish notion.

“I assure you, my Hawk, I am more than content with you and wish for no other,” he said.

“Then what the fuck?”

He could understand Loki being curious.  He was surprised the question hadn’t come up sooner, to be honest.  It had never come up, mostly because Clint hadn’t even looked at anyone else since he had decided he wanted Loki.  It seemed he was as single-minded in this as in everything else that was important to him; his sights were locked, and Loki was his target.  Nothing else mattered beyond that.

Except now Loki was making him step back and look at things from a wider angle.  Clint wasn’t sure he wanted to see what he’d blinded himself to.  He wanted things to stay as they were, anything else was just a distraction, just a buzzing white noise in the background.

It seemed Loki was leaving him with little choice in the matter.

The god gave Clint a long, searching look before asking softly, “You are aware that I wish for nothing more than your happiness?  To be able to give you all you desire, correct?”

“Yes,” Clint answered warily.

“If being with a woman is something you crave; something that will bring you satisfaction, then I wish to provide such.”

Clint reeled back, his eyes searching Loki’s earnest face with something approaching horror.  ”I-I don’t  _want_  anyone else,” he snapped.  ”Just because I said that I miss it a little doesn’t mean you need to…what?  Find me some random girl to sleep with?”

Loki’s face reflected the shock at Clint’s outburst, but only momentarily before slipping once more into a slight expression of amusement.  ”You misunderstand, my Hawk.  I would  _never_  concede to sharing you with another.”

The archer’s concern melted into confusion, and he briefly closed his eyes before nearly pleading, “Then what the  _fuck_  are you saying?!”

“There is still much you do not know of me, Clint,” Loki murmured.  ”But given all that you  _do_  know, can you truly not sort out the meaning behind my words?  I am a god; a sorcerer.  And you have already experienced my actual form that lies hidden under my Aesir glamour.”  He paused then and gave Clint a pointed look before finishing in a smoky purr. 

“Given your answer to my initial question, I think the time has come for you to make yourself familiar with my  _other_  form.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and Clint cycled through them carefully.

God.  Sorcerer.  Other form.

Clint felt his jaw go slack, and he blinked several times as his brain caught up.

“Your… other… Wait, what?” he stammered.

Loki sat patiently, watching as Clint absorbed this new information.  He hoped he hadn’t permanently damaged his Hawk’s poor brain, but the look on his face was genuine and priceless.

“Is it so difficult a concept to grasp?” he asked quietly. 

Clint wasn’t sure  _what_  to think just then, he’d been handed something he wasn’t in the least prepared for.  It seemed Loki had discovered his blind spot and was ruthlessly exploiting it by slinging these bits of information at him in such a way that he never saw them coming.

“So you can… do that?” he finally ventured.  “That’s a  _thing_?”

Loki tilted his head to the side, like a curious bird.  “I can, when I choose,” he allowed.  “Does this upset you?  You do not seem to be taking this well.”

Clint looked at him, exasperated.  “I’m not  _upset_.  I’m just  _really_  confused.” 

“There is nothing to be confused  _about_ , my Hawk.  It is quite simple, really. This is something you desire which I happen to be able to provide.”

Clint huffed out an amused breath.  ”So, I guess I wasn’t that far off when I started calling you Princess, eh?”

“Once again, you managed to hit your target without even knowing precisely where to aim.  But now I think the time for banter has passed.  So you wish to see what I have to offer?”

“Well,  _yeah_ ,” Clint blurted out, earning a small chuckle from the god.

“Always so eager,” Loki murmured.  ”That is just one of the many things I enjoy about you, my Hawk.”  And then he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his archer’s mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Then came that familiar glimmer of poison green light swirling around Loki that marked magic done.  It half obscured the god and shadowed his visage while simultaneously seeming to gild him in his trademark color.  Clint stared, enraptured, as the glow outlined each long eyelash, danced along that sharp jaw, and dripped down over Loki’s arms to twine around tapered fingers.

Loki uttered a small gasp and his eyes opened wide, his gaze finding Clint’s as the god’s face underwent a series of slight changes.  His brows arched higher, jawline softened as his cheeks rounded, and Clint’s eyes were drawn to the sudden fullness of Loki’s mouth, which slowly curved into a lazy smile.  A small pink tongue slicked over that plump lower lip, and Clint’s breath hitched in his chest.

As he watched in quiet awe, Loki’s hair spilled long and loose over his shoulders, stopping midway down his back.  Clint’s eyes drifted over Loki’s body as the god stretched languidly, his…no,  _her_  curves straining against the clothing that had fit so well just this morning.

The green glow slowly faded, allowing Clint to take in all the changes that been visited upon Loki, transforming him so thoroughly, yet leaving her very much the same.  

And as he absorbed this new form, the goddess shone a gamine grin upon her Hawk, asking in what was undeniably Loki’s voice, only pitched higher and slightly more melodious, “Well?  Do you find this form as pleasing, Clint?  I think, from your expression alone, that you do.”

Clint had learned a long time ago that there were certain things he just shouldn’t question.  There was no explanation for them, they just  _were_.  Loki being from another realm, of a different race, with a whole different set of skills than he’d ever seen, those were all things he had simply taken in stride.

One more to add to the list; Loki was also a she.

He was staring, he knew he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.  It was Loki, he  _knew_  it was Loki, and if he looked closely, he could even see some of the Loki he knew in this new form. 

But the differences… those were harder to look past, and if Clint was honest, he liked looking  _at_  them just fine.

Where Loki had once been all lean corded muscle, she was now soft and rounded.  Where his eyes had once been shrewd and piercing, hers were now wide and luminous, ringed with long, dark lashes.  They still held the same spark of mischief, she  _was_  Loki, after all, and Clint found himself all the more attracted to this new form because of that.

This was  _Loki_ , he kept telling himself as his eyes roamed.  Not someone else, he didn’t  _want_  anyone else, but it was okay to want her because she was Loki.   _His_  Loki. 

The confusion was gone now, and in its absence, he felt that possessive beast begin to stir within him.  It was curious; would  _this_  creature be anything like the other?  Would she respond the same, or would she challenge him in whole new ways?

Oh, but he was so eager to find out.

Sitting up, Clint lifted his hand to brush his fingers over that softly curved cheek, her skin silken under his calloused touch.  He felt her smile even as he watched her lips curl, and he brushed his thumb over the full bottom lip, his breath hitching when she darted her tongue out to lap at him as he passed.

She’d asked him a question, he realized.  It wouldn’t do to keep the lady waiting for an answer.

“Princess,” he said, his voice a low, rumbling growl, “consider me very fucking pleased.”

Loki fairly purred in approval at Clint’s response.  She’d already suspected the effect her transformation had had upon the archer; after all, he was not one to veil his lust.

This time proved no different.

That sniper’s gaze roamed over her, the hunger plain in his steel blue eyes, and his fingers slid from her lips to lightly cup the side of her slender throat.  Her pulse thudded against his palm, and Clint fought the urge to take that pale, silken flesh between his teeth and bite down.  

‘ _Soon_ ,’ he thought, and the beast within growled its’ agreement.

Loki leaned into Clint’s touch, a coy smile upon her face as she cooed, “I had hoped that would be your reply.”

“How could it not,” Clint asked earnestly while moving his grip from Loki’s throat to twine through the silken waves of her hair.  ”You’re…gorgeous.”

The goddess gave a pleased hum, dropping her gaze momentarily before looking up at Clint through lowered lashes.  ”Do you truly think so,” she asked, her emerald eyes glittering.

Yes, she was definitely still Loki.  There was still that thread of self-loathing, that feeling of not being  _enough_ , and Clint was well-used to proving it wrong. 

His fingers curled in her hair, and he tugged just enough to tilt her face up, until she was looking up at him.  He lowered his mouth to hers, and he could feel her shuddering breaths against his skin. 

“Gonna make me repeat myself again?” he asked as he brushed his nose against hers.  He heard the tiny, barely-there moan she let out at the slight contact and felt her arch against his hold, straining to close the distance between their lips.  “Yes, Loki, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

And then he gave her what she wanted, sealing his mouth over hers, and swallowed the whimpering moan she loosed.  Her hands came up to grip his shoulders as she pressed fully against him, rising up on her knees to press her body into his.

She still tasted the same, and yet still different.  Sweeter, lighter,  Clint took his time savoring it, relearning Loki’s mouth, mapping the new territory.  His teeth drove into the plump lower lip, and Loki mewled, her body molding against him as if she were trying to climb inside his skin.

His hands began to wander, exploring the new hills and valleys that hadn’t been there before.  He followed the curve of her spine to the swell of her hips, then back up to dance across her ribs.  Her breath came shorter as he explored the flat plane of her belly, and she writhed under his touch, even through the fabric of the clothing she still wore.

And then Clint’s hand slid beneath her shirt, to feel the silken heat of her bare skin.  This hadn’t changed, either; she burned under his touch, the blood beneath her skin pumping fast and hot.

Pulling back from their kiss, she panted down at him, and her hands went to his hair, holding his gaze steady with her own.

“Take all that you need from me, Clint,” she breathed, those wide green eyes burning into his.  “I am yours.  Do as you will.”

With that, Loki sank back on her haunches, her small hands slipping from Clint’s hair to slowly unfasten the buttons on her shirt.  A teasing smile, nearly a smirk, played upon those full lips as her Hawk tracked each movement, watching intently, breathlessly.  She loosed the final fastening and spread the material open, thrilling to the quiet groan Clint voiced at the first glimpse of Loki’s breasts.

Those full, rounded curves fanned the flames of Clint’s arousal, and as he drank in the sight, Loki’s fingers slid up over her belly to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing over rapidly hardening nipples.

Clint’s hands slid to the swell of Loki’s hips before moving up to grip where her waist nipped in so enticingly.  He tugged her back up to her knees before pulling her into his lap to straddle his thighs, the goddesses eyes burning into his all the while.

“Giving me free reign, huh” he asked in a low rumble.  ”Sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Loki gave a slight nod, and leaned in to brush one dusky pink nipple across Clint’s lips.  The archer’s tongue ran out to flick against that needy peak of flesh, and the goddess gave a small, stuttering sigh before saying, “I trust you with all that I am, Clint.  No matter the form I happen to inhabit.  Now…show me your appreciation, my Hawk.”

Clint grinned against the soft flesh and pulled Loki tight against him.

“Gonna need a change of venue, then.  There’s not enough room on this couch for me to do that properly.”

So saying, he stood from the couch, taking Loki with him.  She gasped and tightened her hold on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he made his way down the hall to the bedroom. 

She was lighter in this form, and if he didn’t know better, Clint would be afraid of hurting her.  Instead, he only tightened his arms around her slim waist, thrilling at the little hitch in her breath.

Then he was lowering her to the bed, and he watched as she spread herself out over the sheets, dark hair pooling like a halo around her head.  Her pale skin contrasted so starkly against the dark sheets, it outlined her curves perfectly, and Clint bent low over her, running his hands from her hips to her throat.  His thumb brushed against the fluttering pulse just below her jaw, and Loki tilted her head to give him more room.

“This venue is much more appropriate,” Loki said, her voice a low, husky purr. 

Her voice caught on a gasp when Clint leaned in to run his tongue from her naval to her throat.  He crouched over her, pinning her in place with his burning gaze.

Clint could admit to himself now, he  _had_  missed this.  As much as he couldn’t get enough of Loki in his usual form, there was nothing quite like having a woman ready and willing spread out beneath him.  The sounds she made, the hitching breaths and high-pitched whines called out to something within him that he’d almost forgotten about. 

This was Loki, and yet, not.  She moved differently, almost as if in a dance, trying to entice him with the motions of her hips, the heaving of her breasts.  She clutched at the sheets as she writhed beneath him, arching her back until she was brushing against his still-clothed chest.

Clint knew what she wanted; she wanted him to take her like a rutting beast, and if he was honest, he wanted that too. 

That wasn’t what he was after, though.  She’d said to take what he needed, and he would.  Eventually.  But Loki needed this just as much, and he wasn’t so selfish as to make this  _all_  about himself.

She moved differently, yes, and the sounds she made were different, as well.  Clint found himself curious to see how differently she  _tasted_.

His hands slid over her skin as he sat back on his heels between her spread legs.  Loki watched him with eyes that almost seemed to glow as he worked her pants open.  They were far more snug over her rounded hips than they had been when Loki had dressed that morning, but Clint didn’t plan to leave them on her for very long.

As the dark fabric was slowly drawn down her legs, Clint loosed a rumbling growl as her legs came into view.  Long, pale, smooth and flawless.  He took a moment to run his hands from her feet to the tops of her thighs, gripping her there to spread her open for him.

And here is what he’d missed the most. 

Clint lowered himself to the bed until he was level with her writhing hips.  Holding Loki’s gaze, he let his tongue out lick a heated stripe up the inside of one thigh.  At her surprised gasp, he repeated the action on the other.  A soft mewl was his reward.  He kept up this slow assault until he had her nearly mad with frustration, her hips stuttering off the bed, straining for that torturous mouth.

“Please,” she panted.  “Please, Clint, do not tease me any longer.”

“But I love those little noises you make,” Clint replied, before nipping the skin high on her inner thigh.

Loki squealed and bucked her hips, nearly throwing him off.  “ _Please!”_

Clint let a smirk cross his lips before he gave her what she wanted.

Loki’s back arched as Clint’s tongue pressed against her aching center. He drew it slowly through her folds, from entrance to apex, before giving a teasing lick to that delicate bundle of nerves and ripping another throaty squeal from the goddess writhing under his attentions.  

It had been an age since Loki had indulged in this act while in her female form, and as such, she had nearly forgotten this particular feeling.  

Granted, that last experience had been fleeting, more a necessity to ease the way for what came next rather than the worship Clint was currently heaping upon her.  And as her breath came faster, she realized that a world of difference lay between that episode and the blaze of need that was currently growing between her thighs.

Clint growled softly as he lapped and tasted the goddess, spreading her open further to tease the tip of his tongue against her entrance.  She was positively _soaked_ , and as the unique flavor of Loki-yet- _not_ -Loki filled his mouth, he slipped his questing tongue deep into her core, groaning contentedly.

Loki froze momentarily as Clint breached her body before grinding her hips down to try and take him deeper.  Her thoughts looped in a primal scream of ‘more,’ ‘yes,’ and ‘this,’ as her hips pitched and rolled, lost in the ecstasy of Clint’s mouth.

It had never been like this before.

Yes, she was no blushing maiden, untrained in the ways of the flesh.  But always Loki’s experience had been that when using this form for manipulation, the men involved were never more concerned with her pleasure than their own.  Most trysts involved nothing beyond a hiking up of her skirts, and a few false moans before the fools were crying out their lust, leaving them sated and more than agreeable to her schemes.

But this?  This was raw, untamed want.  This was a blazing fire that threatened to consume all.  This was  _dangerous_ …and it was undeniably Clint.

Loki pushed herself up to one elbow, twining slender fingers through her Hawk’s hair, and staring down at him as he worked her body.  She could feel the tremors rising in her thighs, and the sight of Clint’s eyes, hooded in lust as he delved ever deeper pushed her that much closer to the edge.

“I-it would seem that you have missed this most of all,” she panted, a teasing lilt to that soft voice.  ”And what a shame to have kept you so long from something at which you are so  _very_  skilled.”

Clint lifted his eyes to her face, and he watched her bite her lip and whimper as her hips began a slow, sinuous dance against his mouth.

So, she wanted to flatter him, did she?  He hadn’t even begun to show her how skilled he was at this particular task.  By the time he was done with her, she wasn’t going to be able to remember how to form words, let alone flatter him.

Holding her gaze, Clint pressed the flat of his tongue against her, lapping roughly as he brought the fingers of one hand to her dripping center.  He watched her eyes widen, heard her breath stutter and come to a halt, and felt her body tense just the slightest bit.  Then he was pressing into her, and groaning at the tightness clamping down around his fingers.

Loki’s fingers twining through his hair clutched tightly, pulling him more firmly against her aching core.  Clint gave a pleased hum and burrowed deeper, taking her sensitive flesh into his mouth just as his fingers finally came to rest buried deeply within her clenching heat.  Loki’s body tensed and shook, her legs circling Clint’s shoulders as if to anchor herself.

He let her rut against him for a few beats, grinding up into his mouth and then driving down onto his fingers.  When he felt her begin to loosen up a bit, he twisted those fingers inside of her, stroking against her inner walls, plunging and seeking.  She clamped her thighs around his head with a keening cry when he brushed against something that made her vision go white.

With a pleased growl, Clint zeroed in on that spot, teasing in mercilessly even as he worked his mouth over the sensitive nub of her clit. 

This is what he missed the most, yes.  Breaking someone apart, not with vicious rutting and harsh, bruising thrusts, but the tiniest flick of his tongue or brush of a finger.  Loki’s body was already thrumming, dancing on the edge of release, and Clint hadn’t even taken off his shirt.

He would take  _that_  as a compliment over her pretty words any day.

“Oh…by the Nine,” Loki panted raggedly, her voice spiraling higher as the tension in her belly rose.  ”Never have I felt such as this…”

Clint hummed in approval, the vibrations against Loki’s overwrought flesh causing her to arch back and grind her head against the mattress even as her fingers gripped his hair more tightly.  The stuttering half-scream she loosed cause the archer to bear down more firmly on that hidden spot while scraping his teeth lightly over her clit.

“So…close,” she moaned, hips moving in small circles, fucking herself on the hard press of Clint’s fingers.

And she realized with a start that this would be her first orgasm in this form  _not_ delivered by her own questing fingers.  

In all her dalliances, none had brought her to ruin.  Not that they hadn’t _tried,_ and if asked, all would  _claim_  to have pleased the dark-haired beauty.  But none had the drive, the tenacity, to see her through to the end.  And while she had indulged herself a myriad of times, thrilling to the differences from her usual form, it had never held half the intensity of this feeling.

As Clint captured that needy bit of flesh between his lips and suckled gently, Loki thought back to the first time she had pleasured herself.  The strange, yet familiar, feeling of sliding fingers into such wet heat; the circling, stroking motion.  And the orgasm, when it crashed over her, so different from when she was male.  The sharp sting of release, and the feeling of emptying missing completely, replaced instead by a softer, yet more localized glow.  A feeling of fullness.

And as the throbbing in her core intensified, she tightened her legs around her Hawk’s shoulders, grinding frantically down against him, a broken sob falling from plump lips.

“… _please_ , Clint.  Make me come…”

He could feel her tightening around him, her thighs trembling against his shoulders.  She was so close already, and part of him was loathe to see it end quite so soon.  He toyed with the notion of drawing it out, of keeping her just on the edge but never tipping her over.  The noises she made were addicting in themselves, but paired with the taste of her heavy on his tongue, Clint felt he could stay here for hours and still not have enough.

But she was asking -  _begging_  - for release, and Clint never could deny Loki anything.  She wanted him to make her come.  That’s what she would get.

His mouth sealed once more around her clit, wrapping her sensitive flesh in wet, sucking heat.  The fingers deep inside ceased their teasing and honed in on that sweet spot, pressing and stroking firmly.  Clint’s free hand gripped the pale flesh of her thigh to hold her tight against him when she bucked her hips sharply at the concentrated assault.

The sounds falling from Loki’s mouth were not words as Clint understood them, but her voice, husky and broken with lust, was easy enough for him to interpret.  He kept his eyes riveted to her face as she rode him, her body tensing, and he watched as her mouth dropped open in a soundless scream, her back arched, and her hips snapped up against him. 

Loki’s hands slid through his hair, holding Clint’s mouth tight against her core.  Her head ground back against the mattress, bending her body nearly in half even as her legs shook and curled over his shoulders.

Clint moved with her, even as her hips lifted from the bed as if trying to escape.  He wouldn’t let her retreat, not until she begged him to stop.

Loki could scarcely hear her own cries over the rushing thump of her own pulse echoing in her ears.  

She teetered on the edge, twitching and shaking as her hands clutched at her Hawk, sliding from silken hair down to clasp the nape of his neck.  She hissed out a tortured breath from between gritted teeth as Clint’s motions matched her own, her release cresting high and heavy, about to crash down upon her.

The goddess raised her voice in a keening cry before once more pleading for her archer to end this teasing game.

“Clint,” she gasped, body clenching ever tighter, clamping down around her Hawk’s stroking fingers.  ” _Now_.  Please, now!  I’m so very close and I want…- _oh gods_ -…I want to come in that  _clever_  mouth.”

The growl he loosed around that sensitive bundle of nerves tore through her, and Loki’s hips lost contact with the bed entirely.  Clint hooked one arm around her thigh, holding the goddess above the bed even as he pitched her over the edge of release.

And with a shriek that spiraled up and up before cracking into a breathless squeak, she was coming.

Undulating, Loki ground into Clint’s mouth as he flicked his tongue against her clit, driving the pulsing, shattering contractions of her body ever harder.  She twisted in his grip, nails digging into his nape deep enough to draw blood, and he hissed in a sharp breath before sealing his lips around her flesh again, milking her for more.

The broken sob, and deep pull of air she took suggested the goddess was finally about to beg him to cease; that the sensations blazing within her were too much.  But much to Clint’s delight, she instead growled out one word, fairly dripping with lust.

“Again!”

This hadn’t changed, either, Clint thought.  She was still a greedy thing, but in this, as in most things, Clint was more than willing to indulge her.

He pulled back and let her hips fall to the bed, still twitching and writhing from her release, and she whined brokenly at the loss of his mouth.  Clint gave her a snarling grin as he took hold of the backs of her knees, spreading her wide before diving back in.  He wasted no time sinking his tongue deep, feeling her still pulsing and twitching.

Clint should have known Loki would be even more insatiable in this form; he’d kept her locked away for too long, and only brought her out when he could gain something from her charms.  It was no wonder she responded so readily to him, why she was so greedy to take everything he wanted to give.  The way she moved under him, the way she begged and sobbed and moaned; Clint wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first time she’d been with anyone who knew what they were doing.

He was far from feeling sorry for her, however.  He would do his best to completely ruin her and knock the memory of every one of her past lovers from her mind.

Clint put every little trick he’d ever learned into play, and he was rewarded with Loki’s sobbing moans and gasping whimpers.  Her fingers would grip his hair tight enough to sting one moment, then pet through it as if to stroke a pet the next.  Her thighs trembled, her chest heaved, her hair was a tangled, matted mess from being tossed and ground into the pillows.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d brought her to the edge of release.  Each time her body would tense, her breaths would hitch, he would pull her back.  The look of bliss on her face would pinch into a pout of frustration, and she would turn blazing eyes down to lock with his own in a silent demand.  He met her glare with a cocky smirk she could  _feel_ , and went right back to his task.

It seemed to go on forever, the back-and-forth dance, but Loki would not be denied, and in the end, she got her way, as she always seemed to.

With a feral snarl twisting those delicate features, Loki bucked beneath Clint’s hands, levering her hips from the bed.  She twisted her body, pulling Clint beneath her to straddle his face.  Glaring down into surprised blue eyes, she voiced her demands.

“Enough teasing, you insolent beast,” she said, her voice sharp and venomous. 

Clint’s shock quickly faded, and he took her thighs in a firm grip, sending a smug grin up at her before replying.

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled, and leaned up to take her in his mouth one final time.

The snarl she loosed as Clint’s tongue once more snaked deep inside her would have done justice to any Jotun warrior, and Clint felt his cock give an interested twitch.  It would seem that pushing Loki, even in his softer, more feminine form, brought that harsh and demanding persona back to the surface; ready and able to take what it wanted.

Those emerald eyes burned down at him, and she leaned forward, planting her hands on the mattress, ebony tresses falling in a thick curtain around her face as Clint burrowed deeper between her spread thighs.

Lifting her hips, the goddess shifted the angle until her Hawk was once again worrying her clit with lips, teeth and tongue.  And as he focused on his new target, she began to move in small circles, guiding him through her own motions.  

The small noises Loki was voicing as she rode Clint were quickly driving him mad.  The beast in his belly was railing to be set free; to run rampant and claim this gorgeous, wanton creature as his own.  To pin her down and  _rut_  and  _bite_ and fill her to  _overflowing_.  And as insistent as that beast may be, his own arousal, still caged behind unforgiving denim, was howling all the louder.

Loki pushed herself upright, tossed her head back and began to rock atop him, one hand reaching behind her to grip his thigh tightly for balance while the other rose to cup her breast.  She bore down against Clint’s mouth, urging him on with her wordless exclamations, demanding with her groans and sighs that she not be denied her release this time.

Clint had no intentions of denying her anything.  He wanted nothing more in that moment than to have her break apart under the onslaught of his mouth.  He gripped her tighter and pulled her down more firmly against him, burrowing between Loki’s trembling thighs, cutting off his own air to get just that much closer, just a little bit deeper.

The hand bracing against his thigh became a claw, and the other released her own tempting flesh to bury itself once more in his hair.  She tugged him even more firmly to her core.  The motions of her hips stuttered, losing all rhythm as she drew closer to her peak.

“Again… my Hawk.  So… very… close,” she gasped.  Her head tipped back, the ends of her hair brushing against Clint’s still-clothed chest.

Then, she was bucking hard against his mouth with a high, spiraling cry, and he felt her thighs clench and shudder beneath his hands as her juices flooded his tongue.  He took every bit of her lust greedily, holding her to him when her hips threatened to twitch away.  Her cries soon turned to sobs, then whimpers, and finally, what he’d been longing to hear from the very start;

“Please, Clint… too much,” she gasped, tugging at his hair as if to pull his mouth from her.  “Oh, that wicked, clever  _mouth_  of yours.”

Clint finally released her, and she pulled away with a small whimper when he gave her once last parting swipe of his tongue.

“So I guess you liked that?” he asked, squeezing Loki’s thighs with his strong fingers before lifting her up to settle her against his chest.

Loki’s clutching fingers slipped from Clint’s hair down to his mouth, softly tracing the edge of his lips as she panted, “That word does not begin to do justice to what you just visited upon me.  I had thought you talented with this mouth _before_ …but it seems I did not know the true depths of your skill.”

Clint smirked up at Loki, taking in the heavy flush spilling across her chest and coloring her cheeks.  His hands stroked up and down her still trembling thighs as he murmured, “Happy to do it, Princess.  Trust me on that.”

“Oh, I do,” she answered quickly.  ”You have never begrudged me an ounce of pleasure.  And that seems to hold true no matter the form I choose to take.”

“The form doesn’t matter, Loki,” Clint assured.  ”What matters is  _you_.”  He paused before turning that wicked grin once more upon the goddess above him.  ”Now, granted… _this_  form offers some different…opportunities.”

“Yes,” she cooed, moving back, further down Clint’s body to straddle his hips and press her center against his insistent cock.  ”And I  _do_  hope you are planning on taking advantage of  _all_  those opportunities.  If the wonders you have shown me with your mouth and fingers hold true for the rest of you, as I think they will, then I am certain to be well pleased.”

Clint’s hands gripped Loki’s rounded hips and he bucked up against her, moaning, “Sweetheart, you have  _no_  idea what you’re in for…”

With that, Clint levered himself from the bed to bring his mouth to hers.  Loki let out a soft moan at the taste of herself still lingering on his lips, and she licked and sucked at him to clean him of all traces of her lust before opening herself to Clint’s invading tongue.

As their mouths dueled, Loki’s hands ran along the slope of Clint’s shoulders, her nails scratching lightly against the fabric of his shirt.  She swallowed Clint’s chuckle at her huff of frustration that he was still covered, and he pulled away from the kiss just long enough to tug his shirt off.  Loki dove back in greedily, her hands running over every inch of his skin that she could reach.

Clint’s hands were not idle, either, and he finally let himself indulge in her new curves.  He palmed a breast with one hand, squeezing lightly to feel the nipple harden under his touch, while the other slid down the curve of her spine to her backside.  With a groan, he pulled her tighter into his lap, at the same time pushing his hips up to press his hardness against her.

Loki let out a wanton moan, feeling him hard and needy even through the fabric of his jeans.  She ground down against him, giving a teasing little twist of her hips, and Clint sucked in a sharp breath at the spike of pleasure.  Pulling back, he sent a burning glare up into her own hooded gaze, and as he watched, her lips curved into a sultry smirk.

“You have done a very good job of breaking me, my Hawk,” she purred, the fingers of one hand stroking through his hair.  She leaned down and whispered against his ear, “I wish to return that favor.”

So saying, she backed away, working her way slowly down Clint’s body, as he watched her with hooded, lust-filled eyes.

Loki fairly purred as she licked and nipped her way down that broad chest, pausing to lave against Clint’s nipple before continuing her slow descent.  And all the while, her hands stroked lightly over his trembling thighs, feeling the muscles jump beneath her palms as she pressed sharp, white teeth into golden flesh.  The archer’s breathing already had a ragged edge to it, and she hid a grin against his lower belly, pleased at how he so anticipated her attentions.

Brushing her fingertips across the impressive bulge in Clint’s lap brought a sharp tilt of his hips, and a quiet curse.  Loki dropped lower, brushing her lips over his hidden length, and that was enough of a catalyst to bring Clint’s hands twining through her hair to hold her tight against him. She bit down lightly, and the groan her Hawk voiced went straight to her center, bringing that pulsing ache back to the forefront.  

“It would seem you wish to explore the wonders  _my_  mouth can bring” she murmured before once again nuzzling his insistent arousal.

“Please,” he breathed, his hands slowly stroking her tresses, carding through the ebony waves only to gather them in a double fistful at her nape, allowing Clint to watch as her mouth moved against him.

“At this moment, there is nothing I want more,” Loki cooed, bringing her hands up to work his belt open.  ”I can feel how hard you are for me, but I wish to  _see_ it; to  _taste_  it; to drink down your pleasured cries even as I swallow all that you have for me.”

And here was something that had not changed; Loki’s ability to break him down with nothing but words.  Sure, the voice was slightly different.  Higher, with a mischievous lilt to it.  But the results were the same no matter the timbre.  

And as the goddess cleared the last barrier between them and slid one small hand down the front of Clint’s jeans to tease against his heated flesh, the archer’s breath hitched in his throat.

It wasn’t until Loki’s fingers brushed his bare flesh that Clint realized quite the effect she was having on him.  Until that moment, he’d been so focused on her that he’d quite neglected his own need.  It was just one more way in which Clint was determined to show Loki that this form _\- all_  of his forms - was more than enough to keep his interest.

Now, though, he was pointedly reminded of just how  _much_  he was interested.  Even though they’d already had each other once this morning, and well into the dark hours the night before, Clint was hard and eager as if he hadn’t been touched in years.

It occurred to him then that he wasn’t so far off.  Even before he’d taken up with Loki, he’d been living a solitary life.  Unstable as he had been, he’d deemed it safer for everyone involved if he distanced himself, both emotionally  _and_  physically.

This was the first time he’d felt a woman’s touch in well over a year.

With a deep, rumbling groan, Clint lifted his hips, thrusting up into the tiny fist wrapped around him.  He watched the slide of his flesh through Loki’s fingers, how they squeezed and stroked languidly, the contrast between her pale, slim fingers against the dark, ruddy flesh of his thick, heavy arousal.

Loki watched him closely, a small, secret smile playing over those full, red-tinged lips.  What she saw when she looked at him, Clint had no idea, but it must have pleased her, because she firmed her grip and stroked him firmly, adding a sharp little twist on the upstroke that brought a delicious, tingling friction to the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growled, his fingers stroking against Loki’s nape as he fought to keep himself upright.  As good as her hand felt, his body wanted to simply lay back and  _feel_ , but damn it… Clint wanted to watch, too.

Catching his eye, Loki slid the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, wetting it slightly, before her teeth pressed into the plump flesh.  Clint found himself riveted to the sight, almost as if hypnotized, as he thought of just how badly he wanted to slide between those lips, feel that tongue pressing against him.  He wanted to see those large green eyes looking up at him as her mouth stretched around his thick flesh.

He looked down at her pleadingly, at the same time putting just the slightest pressure against the back of her head, as if to pull her closer.  She cocked an eyebrow at him curiously, humming a question.

When Clint spoke, it was just one word, but his voice carried all the weight of a plea.

“ _Loki…_ ”

And here was the moment she had been anticipating; the moment that Clint either set aside his pride to beg for that which he most craved, or allowed the beast to rise and goad him into taking.  The steady hand against her nape and the want-filled murmur of nothing more than her name spoke of a melding between the two.

And she was never of the mind to deny her Hawk anything he wanted, no matter the form or the setting.

Holding his gaze, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the head of his cock before running her small, pink tongue out to lap just under the crown.  

The shudder that wrung through her archer brought that coy smile to her face again, and she purred, “So very eager you are, my Hawk.  I shall take that as the highest compliment.”  

And with that she snugged her mouth over just the very tip of Clint’s arousal and hollowed her cheeks, suckling as her tongue played against his slit.

Clint’s jaw sagged as Loki wrapped those soft lips around his firm flesh, the heat of her mouth as mind-numbing as ever.  But now, to have those luminous green eyes staring up at him; that small fist stroking him slowly as she plied his length?  It brought the beast within to full attention, a rumbling growl growing in his chest.

Loki pressed deeper, swallowing around Clint’s impressive arousal and inching him further down her tight little throat.  She could feel the tremors wracking his frame as he fought to maintain control, his hips twitching up just the slightest bit, the movements almost unconscious.  

And as Loki’s lips fetched up against Clint’s lower belly, the archer sheathed fully in her wet heat, the goddess began to hum, prompting a feral snarl from the man above her.

This feeling was both familiar, and so very different from what he was used to.  She took him just as deeply, just as greedily, but her tongue was quicker, lighter against him, teasing rather than stroking.  Her mouth was smaller, and he could feel the very edge of her teeth brushing against his length, almost like a cage.  Her throat opened just as eagerly for him, but the purring hum that rumbled against him was a higher timbre,

Those wide green eyes were so very different from the ones he was used to seeing gazing up at him, slightly narrowed as he watched his Hawk come apart beneath his attentions.  These eyes held him trapped, as if locked in the hypnotic gaze of a viper.  The mischievous glint was the same, however, and no matter how wide and innocent they may appear, there was no hiding the wicked intentions held within.

Clint slid one hand from the thick fall of Loki’s hair to run his thumb along her straining jaw, stretched wide around his thick flesh.  Loki’s hands ran along his inner thighs, her fingers dancing over the sensitive skin as she held his gaze, plying him with that wicked tongue.  Hidden though it might be, Clint knew exactly how nimble a tongue this creature had.  The innocent act wasn’t fooling him a bit.

With one hand still gripping her hair and the other gently stroking fingers over her cheek, Clint thrust up into Loki’s mouth, sliding even deeper into her clenching throat.  He felt her fingers tighten on his thighs, and her eyes widened just the slightest bit at the sudden movement.  It was a gratifying reaction, there was nothing quite like seeing Loki so affected by him, in any way, but in this most of all. 

That greedy light flared in her eyes, all it took was one tiny motion to goad her into action, and then she was pulling back of her own accord, sucking harshly and playing her tongue along the underside of his cock before plunging back down.

“Oh,  _fuck_ , Loki, that god damn  _mouth_ ,” Clint groaned, finally giving in to his body’s demands and falling back against the mattress. 

His fingers, still buried in her fall of dark hair, gripped tightly and guided her mouth over him.  His other hand he found trapped by Loki’s fingers as they clutched at him, twining between Clint’s own.  They held him tightly, almost desperately, and Clint returned the pressure, as if to reassure her that he wasn’t letting go any time soon.

And finally, this.  

To have Clint writhing beneath her, thrilling to his throaty moans as she swallowed him deep; to know that she was delivering exactly what he needed.  His grasping hands, pitching hips, and supine position spoke to depth of his need.  

The goddess felt a mixture of pride and arousal at the knowledge that she had brought her Hawk to this point so quickly; that he had nearly been undone just from using his mouth upon  _her_.

With a light growl, Loki pulled back until just the head of Clint’s cock was caught between her plump lips, and she twisted her fist up and around the spit slicked arousal as she suckled.  The archer’s gravely moans rose to a ragged shout, and his hips bucked up, seeking to bury his length once more in the tight heat of her throat.  She moved with him, keeping her mouth firmly locked down as she teased her hand over his hardened flesh.

And with a quiet moan of her own, she realized that in this form, her small hand could barely span Clint’s girth.

The ache between her thighs intensified as she imagined him driving into her, filling her more completely than she’d even been before.  She hungered for that moment, when her Hawk would spread her wide and split her apart.

But for now, she focused on bringing him as close to ruin as possible using nothing more than her wicked mouth and teasing fingers.

Those little sounds she was making were driving him mad.  Moans and whimpers muffled by his own flesh trapped behind those lips.  He felt every tiny sound as she uttered it, and his hips would twitch with each teasing vibration. 

Clint held out for as long as he could, but in the end, his body simply wouldn’t let him deny it any longer.  He needed to feel her wrapped around him, and not just her lips and fingers.

No, he was going to give her exactly what they both wanted.

With a snarling growl, Clint heaved himself upright, pulling Loki up and off of him with the grip he still had in her hair.  She panted and gasped, her lips swollen and slick with a ghost of a smile playing over them.  Her fingers tightened around him and she gave him one last teasing stroke.

“Are you finally done with my mouth, my Hawk?” she asked.  “I wondered how long it would be before you were no longer content with just this.”

“I’m never  _done_ with that mouth, Loki,” Clint groaned, pulling her up to straddle his lap.  “Want something else right now, is all.”  He reached down with his free hand to stroke his fingers along her slick folds.  He moaned at how wet she was for him.  “Looks like you do, too.”

The small, stuttering cry she voiced at the touch of his fingers only served to heighten Clint’s lust.  She was just so goddamned  _responsive_ ; almost as if every motion, every experience were brand new.  He wanted to explore every inch of her, mapping that silken flesh with mouth and fingertips both, and catalog each uttered sigh.  

But now was not the time.  

Not when Loki knelt over him, body shaking with need while her emerald eyes burned into his through that tousled mane of ebony waves.  No, now was the time to show her  _exactly_  what he had in store for her.

Clint brushed the hair back from Loki’s face with his free hand while the other lazily stroked between her thighs.  She rocked her hips slowly, pressing her weeping center more firmly against him as that plump mouth fell open into a soft sigh.

“Yes,” she breathed, bringing her hands up to rest on either side of Clint’s throat, thumbs tracing his jawline. “I must admit that I am…curious to see exactly how different it will feel to have you take me like this.”

“Just curious,” he asked, brushing against her clit, and grinning at the pleading whine that spilled from those lips as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Eager,” she admitted.  ”So very eager.   _Please_ , Clint.  Now?”

He pulled his dripping fingers from between Loki’s thighs and traced over her gasping mouth before pulling her into a blistering kiss.  She swallowed the archer’s moans at the taste of her against his lips, and Clint’s hands dropped to the swell of her hips, and he pulled her down slowly, carefully, sheathing his insistent cock deep within her core.

Their combined cries echoed from the walls around them; Loki’s a surprised wail as she was filled as never before; Clint’s a broken groan at the  _soft_  and the _wet_  and the sheer  _heat_  of her.  She burned around him, gently pulsing, and as he held his position deep, he could feel her arousal slowly pooling between them before spilling over to slick his inner thighs.  

Clint held her close, his mouth open and panting against her collarbone as he reveled in the feeling of being surrounded by her wet heat.  It was so very different to the way Loki felt when he took him in his other form.  She was tight, but welcoming, her inner walls hugging his flesh rather than clenching around him.  Her heat seeped into him, pooling between them until it felt almost as if they were melting together.

Once again, it seemed as if Loki was an exception; no matter how deeply Clint buried himself, he only wanted to go deeper, to claim her from the inside out.

She was trembling atop him, her eyes glazed with lust as she held his gaze.  His body was screaming at him to move, to thrust up into this perfect creature and make her scream, but she was still so very tight around him.  Too tight.  He wanted to ruin her, yes, but not irreparably.

Slowly, breath by breath, Loki’s body calmed, her hips rocking gently against him for that blessed friction that caused them both to cry out.  Clint pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the side of her throat and thrust up to meet her, at the same time wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her down more firmly into his lap.  Her high, gasping whine only spurred him on, until he was moving steadily within her, working for those cries that spiraled higher, louder, more wanton with each thrust.

“So tell me how it feels, Princess,” Clint panted against her ear. 

Loki’s nails raked down Clint’s tensed bicep, and she dropped her head to mouth across his shoulder before licking a heated strip up the side of his throat.  A ragged exhalation, and a nip to his lobe came before her trembling voice sounded.

“Exquisite,” she breathed.  ”Filled so full, and yet I burn for  _more_.  I-I’ve never felt like this.  Not in this form.”  There was a small pause before she continued, the tone of her voice gone rough with need.  ”Will you give me more, my Hawk?  Will you take me apart, shatter me into pieces, only make me whole again?”

The archer’s groan at her words rumbled through Loki’s body, and she leaned back to catch his gaze while rolling her hips down to meet each thrust.  The stretch of her body around his girth was simply divine, and she could already feel the tension growing in her belly.  Each motion of their hips drove her closer to the edge, each brush of her Hawk’s cock against that secret spot inside nearly enough to make her scream.

“You wish to break me,” she gasped, bringing her hands up to cup her full breasts.  ”I can see it in your eyes.  The hunger burns  _so_  very brightly.”  She teased her fingertips over hardened nipples and affected a mock pout.  ”What are you waiting for, Clint?   _Ruin_  me.”

The beast within him snarled at the challenge in those words, and Clint _almost_  gave in.  He reined himself in, by the barest of margins, because he knew that was what she expected of him.  She expected him to throw her to the bed and mount her like a mindless animal, to break her with savage rutting.

Not this time.

Instead, he leaned forward and took a blushing nipple between his lips, suckling gently and lathing it with his tongue.  Loki’s breath hitched, and he felt her inner muscles give a tiny twitch in response.  He held her gaze steadily as he sucked and licked, nibbled and pulled at her with his lips.  Each teasing motion was rewarded with another gasp, another twitch, until she was clutching his hair in her fists to hold him in place.

Still, he kept his pace gentle and unhurried.  Yes, he wanted to thrust into her savagely, to hear the wanton cries and moans of her voice raised in ecstasy.  But first, there was this.  It been too long since Clint had allowed himself to indulge in the soft, giving flesh of a woman’s body, and he was not about to rush things.  She had said she wished him to take what he would from her, but he was not so selfish as to take without giving an equal measure in return.

Soon, though, his body would no longer be content with the slow, languid pace he’d set, and with one last, firm press of his teeth into the tender flesh of her nipple, Clint pulled away from Loki and lay back against the mattress.  Loki whimpered at the loss of his mouth and leaned over him, her hands braced against his chest as her hair fell in a dark curtain over her shoulders.  His hands gripped her hips, moving her over his length, first forward, then back, drinking in her cries, the look of surprised pleasure that flitted over the delicate lines of her face.

Then she was moving on her own, taking him deep, grinding herself against him to hit the excited bundle of nerves at her apex.  Clint watched her as she used his body, working steadily towards her release.

Loki’s mind reeled even as she bore down against her Hawk, again and again.  This was not anything like what she had expected.  The way Clint was teasing her body to heights of lust completely unknown by the goddess; the fact that he had ignored her challenge, instead choosing to allow her to set the pace.  

None before had denied their own pleasure in the name of hers.  None before had  _cared_  enough to do so.

An ache rose in her throat as she stared down into the locked on gaze of the man beneath her.  He was watching so intently, focused so completely on the smallest tilt of her brows, or the faintest tremble of her lower lip.  He marked each sign of her arousal, filing away the motion that inspired it for future use.  

He wanted to  _know_  her.  In every way possible.  

And with that knowledge, her heart stuttered in her chest.

Bending low, Loki held herself just above Clint’s chest, her breasts pressed against him as she rocked her hips.  The slide of his cock stretching her wide, and the friction building by the moment.  She continued to hold his stare, green warring with blue as she sought the perfect angle to pitch her over the edge into bliss.

Clint’s hands left her hips to slide up the curve of her spine and tangling once more in that impressive fall of hair.  The whimper she voiced as his fingers twined through the silken strands went straight to his gut, prompting a sharp, shallow thrust of his hips.  Loki gasped, her eyes widening, and she panted, “Just… _there_.  Please, my Hawk.  Again?”

His only reply was to repeat the motion. Then once again.  And a third time for good measure.

It was then that Loki tensed above and around him, her eyelids fluttering, and white, even teeth pressing down into that full lower lip as her orgasm took her.

And there it was, that’s what Clint wanted to see.  Loki’s face, not twisted into an expression of agonizing pleasure, but instead the awe of bliss.  Her brows drawn down, her mouth that perfect round O, lips trembling on a whimper just before her eyes clenched shut against the flood.  He felt her body tense, thrumming with her release, gripping him in ways only a woman’s body could.  She pulsed around him, her hips writhing in tight little circles as her body attempted to draw out every bit of pleasure she could possibly feel.

Through it all, Clint studied her, mapping each tiny flicker of expression as it passed over her face, the way her chest heaved to draw in her shallow, panting breaths.  Her fingers clutched at him, nails digging in to the skin of his chest hard enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t the first time he’d bled under Loki’s hands, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

It was all nearly silent; it seemed she couldn’t draw enough breath to make sound, only high, needy whimpers, just a bit of breath with a touch of her voice mixed with it.  It seemed to go on forever, the tight coil of her lust unraveling slowly, as if it might be dangerous to let go all at once.

“That’s it, Princess, come for me,” Clint murmured against her mouth.  “So god damn gorgeous when you come.” 

Loki’s eyes cracked open at those words, and she looked down into Clint’s eyes to find them riveted to her face, drinking in the sight of her caught in the throes of her release.  She bit her lip and whimpered at the sight of such raw emotion, such uncensored adoration.  It sent her body into fresh waves of arousal, despite the sated thrum still pulsing through her core.  He was still hard and wanting, she could feel him throbbing within her, and despite the slow, languid way he’d brought her to her peak, she could still see the beast caged within, demanding its fair share.

Uttering a pleased hum, Loki stretched like a great cat atop her archer, giving a little twist to her hips as she did.  Clint’s fingers bit into her flesh and he groaned low in his throat at the feel of her, sopping wet and still contracting rhythmically around him.  A knowing smile spread across those full lips before she bent her head to lap at the crescent indentations left behind by her nails, cleaning away the small drops of blood.

“It would seem I have marked you, Clint,” she purred, the taste of copper heavy on her tongue.  ”Will you return the favor?”

The beast within Clint gave a greedy whine at her question, desperate to  be set loose and allowed free reign.  He leaned up and licked across her mouth, the tang of blood further inflaming his need.

“That something you want,” he murmured, nipping at her softly curving lips.

“Oh yes,” she breathed.  ”You have given me something so precious; this ecstasy you have visited upon me.  Like a slow burn that touched every part of my body.  I…have never felt the like before.”  She paused before allowing that soft smile to curl into a coy grin.  ”But now I need something more base.  The press of your teeth as you mark me; the weight of your solid frame pinning me down as you take what we both know you need.  Spread me open and fuck me well, Clint.  Hold me down and make me feel truly taken.  That is what I want.  Will you give that to me?”

Clint’s breath hitched in his throat as the image of Loki writhing beneath him rose in his mind.  And the beast within voiced a low growl that slowly rumbled up through the archer’s chest, spilling between his slack lips.  

He gave a sharp thrust up into her wet heat, prompting a ragged cry from the goddess, and he snarled in return, “I’ll give you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart.  All you had to do was  _ask_.”

So saying, Clint gripped her by the hips and rolled, pinning her beneath him.  He leaned up and swallowed Loki’s gasp as the motion drove him deeper, the slick friction of their lower bellies bringing a groan from deep in his chest.  She was fucking  _drenched_  down there, and he found himself looking forward to cleaning up the mess.

First, though, he was going to well and truly break his little goddess. 

His teeth drove into her lower lip, and she hissed a sharp breath through her nose at the sting, which she let out in a tight little moan when Clint took hold of her thigh and pulled upwards.  She hooked her legs around his waist and pushed up into the solid body pinning her, wordlessly begging him to let go and  _fuck_  her, and with a rumbling growl, Clint obliged.

The first thrust rocked the bed into the wall, the headboard meeting the plaster with a solid thump that shook the wall hangings and threatened to knock them to the floor.  Loki raked her nails down his arms, leaving welts in their wake and bringing a snarl from Clint’s throat.  Glaring down into those flashing green eyes, Clint took a firm hold behind her knee, pulling her legs from around his waist to spread them wide before beginning a punishing rhythm.  His hips slammed into hers, jarring her with each thrust, pushing breathy, gasping moans from her throat that could barely be heard over the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

“This what you wanted?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl.  His next thrust caused another impact with the wall, and this time something _did_  fall, but neither noticed or cared. 

Loki couldn’t seem to draw enough breath to answer, and could only nod, stroking her fingers over the corded muscles of his forearms.  He held her spread open and helpless, forcing her still,  _making_  her take it. 

Still, Clint wanted to go  _deeper_ , to bury himself as completely within her as possible.  He pulled back, sitting on his knees, and with his grip still tight behind her knees, he turned Loki onto her side.  She rolled with the motion, her head flopping limply on her neck, hair falling over her face as she fought to get her breath back.

Then Clint was straddling her thigh, pulling the other tight to his chest, and thrust into her from this new angle.  Loki’s body tensed, she drew in a sharp gasp and her eyes flew wide as she felt him go deeper, deeper than anyone had ever been.

A high pitched whimper followed her gasp as she realized Clint was pressed right up against her barrier, grinding into her.  And wasn’t  _that_  an odd sensation?  A strange pressure that skated on the edge of pain while still delivering a shiver of pleasure.

And yet…she wanted more.  

When Clint took her while she was in her male form, there were no limits, no line to show that he could go no further.  She knew that her Hawk always wanted to push deeper, fill her more fully, and in this form, with this physiology, that drive became more apparent.  It was nearly as if he were trying to fuck his way  _through_  her, and Loki, greedy thing that she was, would be more than content to let him try.

She curled forward on her side, glittering emerald eyes drawn to where they were joined, reveling in the wet slide of Clint’s thick flesh as he thrust into her.  He glistened with her juices, and the goddess reached down to tease her fingertips along his length as he pulled back before slamming forward again.  

Clint moaned at the feel of her touch, and he dropped his gaze from Loki’s face to watch as he pushed inside her again and again, her nimble fingers heightening all sensations.

Taking her wrist, Clint guided Loki’s fingers to her apex, pressing her firmly against that needy bundle of nerves, and growling, “Make yourself come for me, Princess.  Wanna feel you go all tight around me while I’m this deep inside.”

The goddess whimpered and began to rub in small circles as her Hawk continued to rut deep and hard between her spread thighs.

The sight of Loki touching herself, working that most sensitive part of her body just for him almost made him want to purr.  He could feel her tighten even more around him, her muscles fluttering against him in a prelude to yet another climax.  His focus was split between those clever fingers and the bliss written across her face, in the furrowed brow, quivering lips and the glowing flush spilling over her cheeks.  Her chest heaved, both with her breaths and the force of his thrusts.

The entire picture she painted - spread out on her side across his sheets, hair a tangled mess, gripping the sheets with one hand while working busily between her legs with the other - was enough in itself to inspire Clint’s deepest lust, but the knowledge that this was  _Loki_ , his fallen god, gifting him with something no one else had ever deigned to give him… That other creature within him, the counter to the possessive beast that wanted nothing more than to lay its claim in blood and sweat and come, _that_  creature was even now making itself heard, and it wanted to claim Loki in a completely different way.

Clint lowered Loki’s thigh from his chest, wrapping it around his hip so he could lean over her.  He moved aside the dark hair obscuring her face, and she turned those glassy, dazed eyes up to meet his own.  Her hand released it’s clenching grip on the sheets beside her to tangle through his hair, pulling him down to her until their lips met.  Clint took her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss even as his hips drove into her again and again.  She was tighter around him like this, impossibly hot and wet and gripping him with a needy, wanton hunger he’d never felt in anyone else.

Loki took his kiss greedily, feeding him her moans and cries as the new angle brushed him against that secret spot she’d needed Clint to discover for her.  He could feel how close she was to breaking, her entire body was thrumming, he could practically hear her pulse, quick and light like a fluttering bird, just beneath her skin.

Pulling back, Clint buried his face in her hair, nuzzling against the soft skin of her throat, breathing in the heavy, lust-spiked scent of her, and murmured, “Come for me, Loki.”

That voice edged her closer than even her busy fingers did.  

That low, rumbling murmur of Clint asking her to let go; to come for him and him alone.  Loki whined brokenly, striving toward doing just that; gifting her Hawk with yet another reminder of how deep her lust for him truly ran.  Her fingers pressed and stroked in time to Clint’s thrusts, and as he teased against her throat, she felt herself start to break apart.

The heat rose in her belly, flooding down into her loins, and she keened, head tossed back to grind into the mattress.  The pleasure was too much, nearly painful in its intensity, and her body clamped down around the archer.

“Good girl,” he whispered, fucking her through her orgasm, ripping increasingly high pitched cries from the goddess with each motion of his hips.  ”That’s it.  Come for me.” 

She pitched beneath him, held captive to the sensations blazing within her, and her hands in his hair turned to claws, dragging him back to her mouth.

“Please,” she panted.  ”Don’t stop.  Don’t  _ever_  stop.”

And as Clint continued to move, he could feel Loki tightening around him again.

He took back her mouth as he drove harder, faster within her, pulling her along into yet another shattering release.  Her body snapped, hips stuttering, legs shaking and clamping around him as if she wanted to pull him into her.  Caught in the throes of an all-encompassing orgasm, her teeth bore down onto his lip, and suddenly there was the taste of his blood between them.

Clint snarled and snapped his hips into her even more savagely, and Loki mewled beneath him.  Her hands stroked soothingly through is hair rather than grip it, and her moans turned from demanding to placating, as if trying to appease the beast who held her at its’ mercy, who visited every want and desire and pleasure upon her.  It was selfish in its service of her, both taking and giving in such an unapologetic way that it often left Loki dazed. 

Her Hawk could be just as greedy as she, but what he seemed to want _most_  was her happiness, and worked toward that end with a single-mindedness that was just a part of his nature.  He  _was_  a sniper, after all, and once he had his sights locked on his target, there was nothing to stop him from getting what he wanted.

What he wanted was Loki.

He licked across her mouth, growling low in his throat at the taste of his own blood mixed with her sweet flavor.  Looking down into her eyes, he saw that she was lost in a daze of pleasure, eyes open yet unseeing. 

She’d wanted him to break her, to  _ruin_  her.  It looked as thought he’d succeeded in that endeavor.

Loki blinked up at Clint, the haze clearing slightly as she slowly came down from the onslaught of bliss.  And still her Hawk was plying her body; still moving within her, teasing her toward yet another release.  She sobbed in ecstasy, staring up at the man above her with wonder in her eyes.

This was  _nothing_  like any experience she’d ever had; and the myriad of ways that Clint had broken her while she inhabited her other forms had done little to prepare her for this.  While the act itself was virtually the same, the sensations were far different, and much more volatile.  

Yes, Clint had broken Loki down in all ways.  Made him scream, swear and hiss.  Prompted him to bite, claw and bleed the man now thrusting into her so deeply.  The lust he inspired was overwhelming; a raging fire that left nothing but ruin and smears of ash in its’ wake.

And yet…it paled in comparison to this.

Loki arched up against her Hawk, rolling her hips and countering each of his thrusts.  She held his gaze, slicking her small pink tongue across her lower lip as he bared his teeth at her renewed participation.  A soft purring growl spilled from between those red-tinged lips before she murmured, “And now will you use your mouth on me, Clint?  You have yet to mark me and I feel naked without the brand of your teeth upon my skin…”

Clint chuckled, the rumble of his amusement felt more than heard.

“Haven’t gotten your fill of my mouth yet, Princess?” he asked, licking across her throat before nipping the skin just below her ear.  “You really _are_  a greedy thing.”

Loki whimpered at the sharp press of teeth into her sensitive flesh.  “I will never tire of a single bit of you, my Hawk,” she moaned as his mouth trailed hotly over the long column of her neck, pausing every now and then to bite or suck a mark into the pale skin.  “I will take all you gift me with and _still_ yearn for more.  It is my nature, and I think you would not change me even if you could.”

Clint bit down on the point of her shoulder, his teeth pressing against bone, and Loki squealed in shocked pain before her voice melted into a satisfied purr.

“Got me there,” he said, shifting her onto her back once again, her legs falling open to either side of him.  Looking down, he groaned at the sight of the evidence of her lust.  “God damn, what a mess.” 

He gave a sharp thrust into her, and he watched as the muscles of her lower belly clenched and fluttered.  He felt exactly what was happening within her, her inner walls straining against him.  A quiet whimper left the goddess at the movement, and her head fell limply to the side, her eyes drifting closed as her Hawk visited yet more pleasure upon her.

Clint was impressed; anyone else would have been begging him to stop, but Loki was as he’d said, a greedy thing who would take whatever Clint wanted to give.  She would never beg him to stop, never ask him to cage himself before he had taken his fill.  She wanted every bit of him, she wanted to be the surface upon which he broke  _himself_ , even if he broke  _her_  long before his end came.

She gave him everything he asked for, offered it often before he even knew what to ask, and dug up all of the secret wants he’d kept buried and hidden deep within himself.  The least he could do was return one favor for another.

Leaning over her, Clint ran his tongue up between her breasts, licking away the salt of her sweat, tasting her lust heavy on his tongue.  In the same motion, he drove his hips into hers, sliding deep, and felt her breath hitch under his mouth even as her inner muscles strained to grip him.  He thrust again and again, long, slow, measured strokes that brushed against that secret spot within.  Clint had her memorized now, he knew the exact spot he needed to hit to bring her to complete and utter ruin, and he used that knowledge to his advantage, teasing but never giving her what she so very badly wanted.

Instead, he drove his teeth into the soft, giving flesh of her breast.  Loki arched her back and cried out brokenly to the ceiling, her hands flying to her Hawk’s hair, almost as if to pull him away and hold him in place all at once.  He sealed his lips against her and sucked, hard, bringing the blood to the surface until he could taste it through the thin barrier of her skin.  He pulled back to admire his work, and was pleased to see the impressive bruise he’d left on that pristine white skin.

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki sobbed.  “More.  _Please_ , Clint, mark me, show me I belong to you.”

Dipping his head down, Clint proceeded to do just that.

“That  _mouth_ ,” Loki gasped as her Hawk bit down on the under-swell of her breast, washing her vision red with the sweet sting of pain.

“Like it, do you,” Clint murmured against her sweat slicked skin before scraping his teeth over her ribs.

The goddess nodded frantically, writhing beneath her archer as he nipped and licked every inch of skin he could reach, reveling in the throaty cries Loki issued.  He continued his slow assault upon her body, driving deep and teasing over that spot again and again.  Clint could feel her growing tighter with each pass, the clenching heat between her thighs nearly overwhelming against his sensitive flesh.  But still he continued, intent on bringing Loki to pleasure once more.

With a low, wanton groan, the goddess threaded slender fingers through Clint’s hair and once more tugged him up to face her.  She locked eyes with him, their mouths only a breath apart, and she said in a trembling whisper, “Look what you’ve done to me, my Hawk.  I am but a moment away from being undone yet again.  Watch.  Watch as you break me.”

Clint held her gaze steadily as he snapped his hips a little harder, thrust a little quicker, and ground against Loki’s body before drawing back to do it again.

Those luminous green eyes widened and her brow furrowed at this new motion, and Clint grinned at Loki’s response. 

“J-just there,” she stuttered before tensing around him and uttering a small, breathy, “Oh…” as she broke apart.

Clint was fast approaching his end.  He’d lost count of how many times he’d broken his little goddess, and each time, the sound and feel of her coming undone pushed him just that much closer.  Even now, as Loki threw her head back and cried out, Clint had to hold himself back from spilling, just to draw it out a bit longer, to feel the wet slide of their flesh for a few moments more.

With a snarl, Clint sat up on his knees, his hands sliding down to take Loki by her narrow little waist.  He pulled her hips from the bed, settling her in his lap until her back arched.  Her hips tilted to the perfect angle for him to fully assault that secret hidden spot, and he used his ruthless precision to hit his target with each thrust.

Loki shattered beneath him; what had started as a slow burn was quickly stoked into a blinding, raging inferno.  Clint watched as she lost all control, and only the strong grip he had on her waist kept her from leaving his lap entirely.  Her body did not just shake, it  _quaked_ , her hips snapping, legs flailing in a spasm of pure reflex as every nerve ending she possessed was lit with that inner fire.

And then, what he’d been longing to hear all along. 

Loki screamed, long and loud, her voice ragged and frayed and breathless.  Her nails raked down his arms as she bucked within his grasp, and Clint hissed with both the pain and the searing, clenching heat pulsing around his buried length.

He wasn’t going to last much longer, that was the final impetus he needed to allow himself to fall over the edge with her.  Her body was begging for him to spill, even her panting gasps held an edge of pleading to them. 

As he watched her face, contorted as it was with the ecstasy she was feeling, Clint saw a single wet tear track from the corner of her eye to slide down the side of her face and into her hair.  Those eyes seemed to feel his gaze, and they cracked open, a tiny sliver of green between those long, dark lashes.  A single word pushed past those flushed, kiss-swollen lips, but it was enough.

“ _Please_ …”

And then he was following, every muscle clenching tight as he finally allowed his lust to overflow and spill into her.  He had to shut his eyes to the sight of her spread out beneath him, it was too much to take in, he’d held back for  _so_  long, since he’d first laid his hands on her newly-soft flesh.  All of his pent-up need was let go all at once, and it was the hardest Clint could ever remember coming, it had  _never_  been this intense, this all-consuming.

Clint bit his lip against the scream he wanted to loose, instead growling loud and deep in his chest, the sound traveling from his body and into Loki’s, prolonging her own bliss.  Her eyes were still slitted, watching her Hawk break apart right along with her.  She could feel him pulsing deep within, his heat washing her from the inside out.

Loki shook in Clint’s grip, every muscle tense and trembling.  Her labored breathing just out of sync with her Hawk’s own panting exhalations.  And as she watched the archer slowly coming down from his release, she realized how in awe of him she was in this moment.  

Clint’s stamina had always been a close match for Loki’s own, which had come as a  _very_  pleasant surprise.  There were few that could even keep pace, much less manage to break Loki as completely and thoroughly as he could.

And Loki was well and truly broken.

A sated ache pulsed low in her belly, and she realized with something approaching a masochistic glee that she was  _sore_.  She’d never before experienced such a thing, and it made her want to purr and preen.

She contented herself instead with sliding her hands over Clint’s own where they still gripped her soft waist, and cooing, “You’ve outdone yourself, I think.  And what a  _mess_  you’ve made.”

“That’s not all me, Princess,” he chuckled raggedly.  ”Not by a long shot.”

Loki affected a mock pout and twitched her hips, pulling a slight moan from the man still buried so deeply inside her.  ”Can you blame me,” she asked.  ”When faced with such a glaring display of lust, I had no choice but to return it in kind.”

“Happy to oblige,” he murmured, leaning down over her to press a quick kiss to that pouting mouth.  

With a small hiss, Clint pulled free from Loki’s still pulsing core.  The goddess voiced a quiet whimper at the loss of him, and just the sound of it was enough to prompt his spent flesh into giving an interested twitch.  He swore bitterly under his breath before sagging limply to the bed at Loki’s side, trying to reign in his pounding heart.  He’d never come like that before, and truth be told, the whole experience was just a little overwhelming.  

And he couldn’t  _wait_  for next time.

Rolling onto his side, Clint slid one arm around Loki’s waist and pulled her flush against him.  He let out a contented sigh at the way her curves fit alongside him.  Her hips snug against his, the dip of her waist cradling his arm, and their legs entwined as if to lock each other in place.  Clint buried his face in Loki’s hair and breathed deep, and wondered how she could smell so much the same, and yet so different.

Loki lay quietly in his arms, her fingertips stroking languidly along his forearm as her breathing evened out and her pulse began to calm.  He could feel her still shaking, and every now and then, she would wriggle her hips against him, as if to alleviate some ache she suffered.  Clint pulled her tighter against him, pressing his mouth against the back of her shoulder, and she stilled with a pleased sigh.

“Thanks for that,” Clint murmured against her skin.  “I guess I didn’t know how much I missed that until you asked.”

Loki’s fingers stilled for just a fraction of a beat before resuming their path up and down his forearm.

“It was something we both needed, I think,” she said pensively.  “And I am happy I can give you this, my Hawk.”

Clint was silent for a few moments as he let everything sink in.  He’d been so caught up in the moment, he’d only had time to react.  Now, in the aftermath, he found himself curious.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” he wondered.

Loki gave a vague shrug as she pondered the archer’s question.  ”There is much to tell of the things I can do,” she replied cryptically.  ”Suffice it to say that as a sorcerer, I am able to mimic any form I wish to inhabit.”

This gave Clint pause, and he mulled over Loki’s words before asking, “ _Any_ form at all?”

“Bird, beast, man or monster,” Loki confirmed.  ”I have been them all at one time or another.”

“Jesus,” Clint said quietly.  ”Am I ever going to know  _everything_  about you?  Or should I just expect you to keep springing this stuff on me randomly?”

The goddess stiffened in his arms, bristling at her Hawk’s implication that she was deliberately withholding information from him. “I could ask you the same,” she replied tersely.  ”You were none too forthcoming about how much you _‘missed this’_ , now were you?”

Clint went still and silent at the tone of Loki’s voice, and he felt the tingle at the back of his neck that told him he’d wandered once more onto dangerous ground.  He hadn’t meant to start an argument, he was merely curious about why, after all this time, he’d only just recently learned that Loki could literally be  _anything_  he wanted. 

He knew exactly what Loki was implying with her scathing question, and Clint felt a pang in his chest at how utterly  _unfair_  that implication was.  He felt his body tense, all traces of his languid contentment erased with just those few well-placed words.

“What?” he asked, his voice low and quiet; a dangerous combination.  “You really gonna put this on  _me?_ ”

He felt Loki’s body tense even further, her breath coming short and quick, and Clint knew he’d just said yet another wrong thing.

“I was  _attempting_  to fulfill your desires, Clint,” the goddess spat.  ”Desires I suspected you had all along…but simply refused to admit.  And once delivered, you question why I had not told you of this  _sooner_?  Perhaps had you shared your true feelings on the matter, I would have thought to provide you with this in a more…timely manner.”  

Loki pulled free from Clint’s embrace and moved to the edge of the bed to glare down at him.  ”I had no idea you would tire of me quite so quickly, and had your excitement over this form not already contributed to my doubts, then your questions certainly would have.”

The wary confusion on Clint’s face gave way to anger, and he shoved himself upright to meet Loki’s glare on equal footing.

“Is that  _really_  what you think happened here,” he growled.

Loki’s eyes narrowed in response, and she hissed out, “And yet you have more questions.  Tell me; what  _should_  I think?  Considering the attention you lavished upon this form, I believe I am justified in thinking her your favorite of the bunch.”

“You…,” Clint began, but bit off the angry retort he wanted to make. 

He should have known this would happen; given what had happened earlier to cause Loki to put forth his questions that had started all of this, it should have tipped him off that this was yet one more way for Loki to find himself lacking in some way.  He would never think himself worth Clint’s affection, there was always going to be that part of him that doubted, as if he were utterly worthless except for what Clint could get from him.

That painful sting grew in his chest at the thought that, even after everything they’d gone through up to this point, Loki still doubted him.

She was still glaring at him, chest heaving, and Clint found his own anger dissipating at the sight of the hurt lying just below the thin veneer of ire.

“I really don’t get you sometimes,” Clint said.  “When did I  _ever_  do or say anything to make you think I was  _tiring_  of you?   I was happy the way things were, you didn’t have to do this to keep my interest, Loki.”

Each word only seemed to stoke her anger higher, and Clint felt helpless in the face of her displeasure.  He wanted nothing more than to put her fears to rest, he didn’t want anyone else, he didn’t want any other version of his fallen god any more or less.  He just wanted  _Loki_ , in any way he could have him.  Or her.  Or  _them_.  It didn’t  _matter,_  as long as it was Loki.

He didn’t know how many more times he could prove that, how many different ways he could say it, before it was finally believed.

Behind Loki’s flashing green eyes, a self destructive dance was underway.  Her logic faced off against that sly and simpering voice of doubt that whispered she would never be  _good_  enough; never  _worthy_  enough; never  _enough_.  That her Hawk had already grown weary of her, and no matter the form, he would soon move on, leaving Loki to once more face eternity alone.  

Logically, she knew it to be untrue, but that voice continued to whisper,  _‘What if…?’_ , which brought an edge of despair to her anger.

“Did I not,” she demanded, pushing back the hurt that swelled in her breast.  ”I have never seen you in the throes of such passion.  Nor have you  _ever_  come undone with such violence.  No, you may not have plainly stated such; but your actions spoke for you.”

She turned away then, feeling the familiar prickling heat that spoke of imminent tears.  Presenting the archer with her back, Loki wrapped her arms around herself and whispered forlornly, “Perhaps you would prefer that I remain as I am now.  Until you tire of this, too.”

Clint regarded Loki’s slumped form with an exasperation that bordered on panic.  How was this all going so wrong?  Even more than usual, Loki’s words were slung in such a way as to pierce each and every chink in Clint’s armor as if it wasn’t even there.  He might not show it as blatantly as Loki, but her words had just as much power to hurt him as any blade, and she was adept at twisting them to get as much agony out of them as possible.

“I thought I was giving you what you wanted,” he said, trying to keep the depth of his hurt from reflecting in his voice.  “You gave me something I didn’t even know I needed, and I just… I wanted to give you something, too.”

He shifted just a bit closer, hesitant as a kicked puppy trying to get back into its master’s good graces, unsure if its overtures would only result in more pain, or if this time, just this once, it might be forgiven.

“I’m sorry, Loki,” Clint whispered.  “If you thought I wanted you to change.  If I did anything to make you think that.  I promise I don’t.  I just want  _you_.  You should know by now that I…”

And he had to stop there, horrified at what he’d almost said aloud.  His throat rebelled at saying anything more, even if it was what Loki needed to hear the most.  There was no way he would be believed, not now, not in the midst of  _this_ , it would seem just one more placating lie to add to all the others the god had heard in her long years of being lied to.

“I should know  _what_  by now,” she asked in that same forlorn tone; still curled in upon herself.  ”That you love me?  How can I know any such thing when you refuse to even speak the words, Clint?  Is it any wonder that I doubt myself so deeply?  If I cannot inspire you to state your feelings, plainly and openly, then how can I hope to ever hold your interest?”

Clint’s jaw sagged slightly, and his brow furrowed in frustration.  ”I guess I’m just afraid you’d think I was only telling you what you want to hear.  I didn’t think you’d believe me…”

“Of course that’s what I want to hear,” Loki murmured.  ”I  _yearn_  to hear those words; I  _burn_  for them.  And I know that should you ever grace me with that one short phrase, it will be nothing but the truth.  That is the place from which my doubt is spawned, because if I truly deserved your love; had I proved myself worthy to hold your heart, then it would not be so…difficult for you to voice.”

Loki let slip a shuddering sigh, tightening her arms around herself and bowing her head so that her ebony waves draped around her face, hiding the glittering tears that spilled silently down her cheeks.  

Oh god…

He’d really messed up.  In his long career of messing up, this was his crowning achievement.  He’d done everything as wrong as he possibly could.  Once again he’d managed to not only hurt Loki in the worst way possible, he’d been doing it from the very beginning. 

Loki thought himself worthless, when he meant  _everything_  to Clint.  But how was he to know that if Clint couldn’t bring himself to lower his walls enough to tell him?  In wanting to spare Loki the hurt of thinking he was being lied to, Clint had only fed that destructive creature within, proving - to Loki, at least - that he wasn’t worth anything to Clint other than someone to keep his bed warm.

It was no wonder he thought of their relationship in such black-and-white terms; he thought nothing of himself other than how to best keep Clint’s attention, and what better way than by plying him with his most base desires?  Loki knew of his fondness for certain things, and he used that knowledge ruthlessly, cleaving Clint to his side the only way he could.  The only way he really knew.

It was Loki’s nature to manipulate, to exploit every weakness to his advantage.  Clint would be an idiot to think that might have changed.  And while the thought of Loki manipulating him might sting, he could see why the god’s desperation would make him resort to such measures.

The fact that it was Clint’s own misguided intentions that made it necessary put a damper on any anger he might feel.  He wasn’t happy to know he’d been led on as he obviously had been, but he could understand the reason behind it.

Except it was a bullshit reason, because Clint was never going to let Loki get away.  They were well and truly stuck with each other, Loki was  _his_ , and just as much, he belonged to Loki. 

He didn’t know what the hell he was so afraid of, why he couldn’t just  _tell_ Loki what he wanted to hear when it was always on the forefront of his mind.  It never seemed the right time, there was always something holding him back.

They were just words, he thought to himself.  There really isn’t a ‘right time’ to say them, he could have told him on any number of occasions.  It was just him being a coward again, he realized.  The fear of not being believed, of being thought one of the many who lied to the god and gave him just that much more reason not to trust.

Swallowing down that fear, Clint slid up behind Loki and laid his hand on her trembling shoulder.  He felt her body tense beneath his touch and hated himself for letting this go on as long as it had.

“Loki, look at me please,” he said in a soothing rumble.

At first, Loki only turned her face to the side, keeping the barrier of her hair between them.  With a steady, gentle pressure, Clint pulled her around to face him.  Loki kept her head lowered, dark hair obscuring her face.

“ _Please?_ ” he whispered, letting just an edge of his true desperation into his voice.

Finally, her head lifted, large green eyes watery and shining with tears.  Clint took her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over the wet trails, only to have them reappear when fresh tears began to fall.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I keep doing this to you.  I don’t know why you even want to stay with me when all I seem to do is hurt you.”

“Do you not?” she asked, her voice wavering with yet more tears.  “Do you truly not know, Clint?”

“I know you… love me,” he said, hesitating just a brief moment over the much-contested word.  “Is that enough?  Is it worth all of this?  Am  _I_  worth all of this?”

Clint needed to know, he needed to be sure, because once he’d set his sights on something, it was  _his_.  He wasn’t about to let Loki slip away from him, not now that they’d come this far.

Loki’s answer would doom her, either way.

“For you, my Hawk?” she said, her hands coming up to circle his wrists lightly.  “There is nothing I would not suffer to stay by your side.”

Something seemed to lift from Clint’s chest at those words, like some dark thing chased from its lair deep inside him.  Loki had said before that Clint would be the one to bear the burden of his love, but he’d also decided that Loki’s love would never be a burden.  The burden had been lifted when he finally realized that he was worthy of being trusted with such precious cargo.

Leaning forward until he was surrounded by the dark blanket of her hair, Clint whispered the words Loki had been longing to hear for an eon.

“ _I love you._ ”

Loki’s breath hitched, and her eyes searched those of her Hawk’s, taking in the myriad of emotions flitting through his gaze.  There was an earnest cast to his face, the conviction plain in the set of his mouth, but his eyes; his eyes held _hope_  and  _terror_  and  _love_.  And they burned into hers, pleading without words to be believed.

 _‘He lies,’_  came that bitter voice from within.   _‘Only trying to placate you.  Do not trust in simple words.’_

With a firm mental shove, Loki pushed that voice deep down into the corner of her mind and ignored the frantic hissing as it struggled to poison her joyous thoughts.  All along it had insisted that Clint’s inability to say the words was proof he did not care for Loki.  And now that it  _had_  been said, the voice said not to the trust the words of her archer?

With a start, Loki realized that the one not to be trusted in this room was the voice inside her own head.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead to Clint’s and holding his gaze steadily.  A glow rose in her belly, spreading slowly through her body, coloring each part of her with joy.

“Thank you,” she breathed.  “You have no idea what it means to me to finally hear you say that.  It soothes my heart and brings me such happiness.  I-I have waited so long to hear such.”

She bridged the final distance between them, pressing soft kisses to Clint’s mouth, pouring her contentment into each one.

Clint’s arms went around her and tugged her slight frame to his.  He buried his face in her hair and let his eyes fall closed with a sigh, nearly crushing her against his chest in his relief that he was finally believed.  He could feel his pulse hammering through his body, making his skin feel too tight, his eyes too hot, and his breath was oddly strained, pushing past the sudden tightness constricting his throat.

“Sorry it took so long,” he muttered against her hair.  “Told you I wasn’t very good at this.”

He felt her arms circle his back and hold him tightly as she pressed yet more kisses against the side of his neck.  “I think we are both untested in such things, Clint.  I am no scholar in the ways of the heart.  As you must learn to share yourself, so I must learn to trust what you share.”

“That would help,” Clint agreed. 

He pulled away to look into Loki’s face, amazed at her transformation after his confession.  It was the closest he’d ever seen the god to happiness, and the thought that he could have brought it so much sooner brought that ache back to his chest.  The wavering smile she was fighting from spreading over her face was almost endearing, except for the tears that even now threatened to spill over her lower lashes.  Even if they  _were_ borne of her happiness, Loki’s tears would always be a sight that pained him.

Loki seemed to notice this, and blinked them back while allowing the smile to spread.  “So you agree that we are both hopeless in this?”

“I wouldn’t say hopeless,” Clint allowed, brushing one last stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.  “It’s a learning curve.”  She blinked at him curiously, and he explained, “We learn as we go, that’s all.”

Her smile widened and she turned her face into his touch like an affectionate cat.  “Yes, that does sound like us.”

“Right, so, pop quiz time, Princess,” Clint said, and Loki’s eyes snapped to his expectantly.  “You really think I want you to stay like this?”

Her smile faltered for a moment as her eyes clouded with the remembered pain and bitterness with which she’d originally posed that question.  She knew now that it was not something Clint would ever have asked her for, even had he known of his ability to shift his form, but at the time, reeling from the twisted emotions her own fractured mind had spun within her, she couldn’t help but feel as though it would be much easier for them both to remain in this form.  She hadn’t failed to notice that their relationship was… unorthodox.  None on Asgard had ever taken issue with such an arrangement, it was quite common.  The disdain and animosity towards such here on Midgard had surprised him when he’d first learned of it, and from there the seeds of doubt were allowed to grow just a bit more.  Would it not be simpler for Clint if Loki could give him this?

She knew now that Clint had never been concerned about that particular aspect of their relationship.  He’d never felt the need to hide what they were to each other, and while Loki knew he must have seen the looks they would get while out in public, hear the whispered comments and questions and accusations, he hadn’t  _cared_ , because Loki was his and that was all that mattered to him.

Clint watched the play of emotions behind Loki’s eyes as she considered his question, and waited patiently, despite the thudding of his pulse in his ears.  It seemed to take an age for him to get his answer, but he knew it to be only a matter of seconds before Loki finally spoke.

“I do not think I ever truly believed you desired that, Clint,” she said, her voice softly apologetic.  “It was my doubting heart that prompted such words from me.”

“Damn right,” Clint agreed, sliding one hand into her hair to tug her head back until she was looking up at him.  Her eyelids fluttered and a tiny whine spilled between her lips at the slight stinging pressure.  “There’s too much about your other forms I would miss if you stayed like this  _all_  the time.”

Loki’s eyebrow lifted as a hint of a smirk touched her lips.  “Oh?  And what would you miss, my Hawk?”

Clint’s eyes burned down into hers, his fingers tightening further in her hair as he growled, “Change back and I’ll show you…”

Loki allowed the smirk to fully rise on her face, and she whispered, “As you wish, Clint.”

That green fire came again, licking across the delicate features that gazed up at him so adoringly, and Clint was surprised to feel a slight chill emanating from the glow.  He kept his eyes fixed on Loki’s face, watching the gradual shift that brought his god’s visage swimming back to the surface.  Gone were the soft curves, the fall of ebony curls, and in their place were the familiar lines of Loki’s body.

The god tugged against his Hawk’s tight grip, still buried deep in his hair, straining forward to capture Clint’s mouth once more.  And as he did so, he placed one long-fingered hand over the archer’s heart, feeling the driving rhythm beneath his palm.

“There you are,” Clint murmured against Loki’s mouth, pausing to nip before tasting deeply of his god’s flavor, his tongue teasing over and against the Loki’s own.  

“Exactly where I always wish to be,” Loki sighed as Clint mouthed his way to Loki’s throat, scraping his teeth over that sensitive hollow under the god’s ear.  ”At the mercy of your desires.”

Clint voiced a low, rumbling growl and bit down on the point where throat melded into shoulder, teasing a needy cry from the man in his arms.  ”Don’t think I’ve ever made you ask for mercy before.  Is that even possible?”

That familiar smirk rose on Loki’s face again as he breathed, “I do not know.  Perhaps you should try…”

That sounded like a challenge, and Clint was never one to turn down one of those.  Clint’s hands pushed Loki down to the bed before he rolled atop him, pinning him with his weight as he returned the god’s smirk with one of his own. 

And here was one of the things he would miss; as much as Clint was a fan of soft, womanly curves, there was something about the hard press of Loki’s hips against his, the firm muscles of his lithe frame flexing and straining beneath his skin that set Clint’s pulse racing.  His hands slid down the smooth skin of Loki’s flanks, feeling the god’s breath under his fingers, the faint tremors of anticipation as his hands moved lower, over the tightening muscles of his belly. 

Clint shifted until he could slide his hands still lower, teasing across his hipbones, scratching lightly through the light sprinkling of dark hairs just above his waking arousal.  Loki’s breath hitched at the teasing touches, and he pushed his hips up, straining for more.

“Sure you wouldn’t miss this, too?” Clint asked, his breath washing hot across Loki’s throat as he ghosted his fingertips against the hardening flesh.

“Of course I would,” Loki groaned.  ”The pleasure you gifted me with while in my female form was just as exquisite, but in an entirely different way.  This is somehow…sharper.  More localized.  And I would miss that  _terribly_.”

Clint grinned down at the god as he circled his girth with calloused fingers, stroking slowly.  And there was that narrowing of those shrewd eyes that Clint so loved.  Being pinned in Loki’s lust glazed glare never failed to send a shiver of arousal through the archer, and served to remind him of just how much he was wanted.

“Thought so,” Clint breathed, firming his grasp and tearing a whimper from Loki’s suddenly slackened mouth.  ”See, there’s things I like about each of your forms, Loki.  But the thing I enjoy most?  They’re all  _you_.  Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I-I will do my best, my Hawk,” the god stuttered, tilting his hips up into Clint’s grip.  ”You may have to remind me of such, though.”

“Of what,” Clint rumbled.  ”How much I  _want_  you, no matter the form or glamour?”  He paused then and leaned in close to lick across Loki’s panting mouth.  ”Princess, I don’t think that’s  _ever_  gonna be a problem.”

With a firm grip, Clint stroked along Loki’s cock, watching his eyes darken and lose their focus.  He felt an answering rumble from the beast within him at the sight of Loki succumbing to his touch; this was as it should be, Loki was his, to touch and taste and  _take_ , in any and all ways.  He would remind the god of this however many times he needed to, however many ways.

Clint pushed his hips against Loki’s thigh, gaining friction against his own growing need.  It was just one more mark of how much Clint lusted after this strange creature; already twice today he’d come apart with Loki beneath him, and  _still_  he wanted more.

Those times, though, hadn’t carried the weight this now did.  He wanted to prove to Loki once and for all just how much his love meant to him, how much he appreciated each and every single gift Loki saw fit to give him.

Loki let out a hitching moan at the hard press of Clint’s cock and let his legs fall open to either side of the archer’s hips, cradling him between his thighs.

“Please, Clint,” he panted.

Clint let his tongue out to lap across the god’s throat.  “Tell me what you want.”

“What I want,” Loki moaned as he bucked his hips up against his Hawk, “is for you to take me.  Slowly.  Thoroughly.  Brand the truth of your love into my very flesh, Clint.”

The archer groaned against the side of Loki’s throat, feeling the god’s pulse thrumming just beneath the surface of his heated skin.  That was a request he was ready, and more than willing, to deliver.  

Clint ground his hips against the writhing god, feeling the silken friction of their hardened flesh, drinking in the hitching whines that Loki was voicing.  The sounds he made, no matter the form, were always  _so_  goddamn enticing, fanning the flames of Clint’s arousal ever higher.

This time was no different.

Clint pulled back from Loki’s throat and levered a steady gaze at the god.  ”I can do that,” he said quietly; firmly.  ”There’s nothing I want more than for you to understand exactly how much I feel when it comes to you.  I’ve…never been that good at speaking it, but I can damn well  _show_  it.”

Loki’s lust-hazed eyes widened slightly at the emotion caged in Clint’s words, and his hands slid up to cup the back of the archer’s neck.  ”Then show me,” Loki whispered throatily.  ”Show me how much you  _feel_ , my Hawk.”

With a quiet moan, Clint sealed his mouth over Loki’s, swallowing the god’s cries as he sped the movements of his hand.  He felt the body below shaking with pent-up need, and Clint found he had to work to keep Loki’s hips still, pressing down with his own solid weight to keep from being tossed off.  When he added a twist to the end of his next stroke, Loki bucked hard, lifting them both from the bed, and Clint chuckled into the kiss before pulling away to look down into the flushed and panting face of his fallen god.

“That’s a nice reaction,” he murmured against his mouth.  “Doing something right.”

“Everything right,” Loki corrected, twining his fingers through short brown hair, still damp from his earlier exertions.  With his grip in Clint’s hair, he moved the archer’s mouth where he wanted it most, hovering just above his pulse.  “Mark me?  Please?  I wish to see the progress of your conquest in the mirror later.”

Clint gave the skin a rough pass with his tongue before setting the edge of his teeth against his throat.  Loki gave voice to a desperate moan and arched his back, pushing against his Hawk’s mouth.  Clint let his breath wash over him for a few moments, breathing in the scent of him, laced heavily with his arousal, before sinking his teeth into the tender skin.

Loki hissed and arched even further into Clint’s touch, his fingers curling into claws against his scalp.  Clint growled around his mouthful, spurred on by the pain of the sting and the taste of Loki against his tongue.  He bore down harder, and Loki squealed, eyes flying wide at the feeling of his Hawk’s teeth breaking skin, the rush of pleasure that followed in the wake of such exquisitely-delivered pain.

Clint pulled back to look at his work; he saw a trickle of blood wend its way down Loki’s pristine white throat and knew that his mouth must be stained the same color.  He licked across his teeth and tasted copper and salt, blood and sweat.  Loki’s eyes were riveted to him, to the sight of his blood-stained mouth, and before he could place the emotion held within, Loki had pulled him down into a savage, snarling kiss.  He cleaned the blood from his lips, all the while bucking into Clint’s fist.  He was impossibly hard and already leaking.

With one last swipe of his tongue, Clint pulled away from Loki’s mouth and rose to his knees to crouch above the god splayed on the sheets below.  It was never more surreal to Clint as in that moment, to think that Loki wanted  _him_ , would gift him with everything he had and was always willing to give more.  He could have anyone, could  _be_  anyone, and yet he chose to be here, with Clint.  Because he loved him.

And Clint was more than willing to prove to him that he had earned that love.  The first thing he would do would be to give him exactly what he asked for.

He wanted Clint to take him, slowly.  Thoroughly.  He was going to take the god at his word.

Holding his gaze, Clint lowered himself to the bed between Loki’s straining thighs.  The god followed him with his eyes, the breaths hitching in his throat at the sight of his archer caged between his legs.

“Eyes, on me,” Clint rumbled.  “I want to watch you while I take you apart.  We’ll start with this.”

So saying, Clint let his tongue out to play.

The first slow and steady pass of Clint’s tongue over Loki’s cock caused the god to hiss from between clenched teeth.  The second prompted a trembling cry that rose in intensity as the archer teased over the sensitive crown.  The third nearly broke him when Clint laved from root to tip before taking Loki deep into the burning wetness of his throat.  

The god’s hips twitched, and his Hawk swallowed around him, the tight press of Clint’s muscles ripping a string of unidentifiable words from the man writhing under his attentions.

Clint held Loki’s gaze through each motion, and the god fought to keep from melting back into the bed; from arching his spine and grinding his head into the pillows.  Every move that Clint was making, every slow, drawing suck, every trembling swallow threatened to be Loki’s undoing, and the heat in his belly was intensified by the predatory gaze the archer leveled at him.

His Hawk wanted to watch, and Loki was determined to give Clint exactly what he craved.

Loki’s eyes glittered with pleasure as Clint continued to slowly ply his body.  He was pouring every bit of his need into this act, employing every skill and trick in his arsenal to convey exactly how much he  _wanted_  Loki; how much he  _felt_  for him.  

This was  _his_  god, and Clint intended on worshipping at his altar; frequently, and with much vigor.

Pushing forward, Clint took him deep yet again, and began to growl low in his throat.  He smirked around the thick flesh as Loki wailed brokenly, the god’s hands twisting in the sheets next to his hips as his body pitched and shook.  Pressing the flat of his tongue against the underside of Loki’s cock prompted a sharp thrust, and Clint matched the movement, drawing back to keep the depth consistent.

“Please,” Loki breathed.  ”My Hawk; my love.   _More_.”

Clint moaned around the throbbing length buried in his throat at the sound of that desperate plea.  Those words, the way his voice broke and shuddered, the pleading cast to his eyes as he held their gazes locked, they all combined into a strange swirling mix of need, lust and love.

Loki wanted more; Clint would give him just that.

With a deep breath through his nose, Clint surged forward, taking Loki down to the hilt, until he was buried in his throat and could go no deeper.  At the same time, he brushed his fingers over the hidden divot of his opening.  A broken cry was his reward, and fought and lost the battle to hold his Hawk’s gaze, his eyes clenching shut as he tossed his head back into the pillows.

Clint counted that as a victory, and he gave Loki a long, harsh suck as he drew back, wrenching a sobbing moan from his throat as his tongue slid up the underside of his cock.  He pressed harder against the tight ring of flesh beneath his fingers as he worked his mouth over the head of Loki’s arousal, reveling in the whines and mewls he was wringing from his god.

“You want me inside of you?” Clint asked, his breath washing hot and humid over the throbbing tip of Loki’s cock.

Loki’s eyes cracked open to give his archer a pleading look.  “Please?” he panted.

Clint licked across that leaking flesh, and Loki bit his lip against a whimper at the teasing contact.  “Do your little trick then, Princess.”

Loki almost fumbled the whispered phrase in his haste, and then Clint felt his fingers slicked with what Loki had conjured.  He pressed against him, and felt the tight constricting heat of Loki’s body surrounding him.

Clint rose to his knees, kneeling over the god as he worked him open, gazing down into that flushed and needy face, the red smear of blood against his throat a start contrast even against the darkening skin.  The sight caused that inner beast to rumble in pleasure at seeing its claim staked so clearly, but that other creature inside him was pleased simply to have been asked to stake it in the first place.

As his fingers stroked and stretched, his other hand drifted up to run his thumb along the darkened bruise, the shape of his teeth firmly imprinted in Loki’s skin.

“ _Mine.”_

It was not his usual possessive growl, instead, a reverent whisper.

“Yours,” Loki moaned, languidly rolling his hips in time to the motion of the archer’s hand between his thighs.  ”All that I am and all I shall ever be is yours.”

The heat in Clint’s gaze sparked an answering flare deep in Loki’s belly, and as his Hawk’s fingertips brushed against that spot deep inside, the god’s moans became a shuddering wail.  

“Love the noises you make for me,” Clint murmured, pressing down on that hidden bundle of nerves that brought such blinding pleasure to the god.  ”Those little sighs and moans; the screams.  All of it.  Knowing that I’m the only one that gets to hear you like this?  Fuck, Loki…it’s just so…”

Clint’s voice trailed away.  How to put into words the way Loki’s vocal appreciation of his attentions made him feel?  There was pride and lust; possessiveness mixed with joy.  It aroused Clint to no end, knowing that he was responsible for those sound; that he was the author of so much want.  There didn’t seem to be a word that quantified all that he felt, so he just let it go at that, choosing instead to focus on the lissome form spread out beneath him.

Loki stared up at his Hawk, lost in the blaze of sensations being visited upon him; both physical and emotional.  His mind kept turning back to those three small words he had waited so very long to hear, and each time he revisited the moment they were spoken aloud, his desire for Clint grew.  He hadn’t thought it possible to want the archer any more that he already did, after all, he had spent an eon dreaming of him.  But now that Clint’s love had been voiced, Loki found the depth of his feelings expanding.  He no longer held the fear that what he and Clint shared was one-sided, or that he was nothing beyond an easily replaceable bed partner.

No.  The shine in Clint’s eyes as he slowly readied Loki to take him spoke of far more than that.

Loki slid his hand over top of Clint’s own, pulling those stroking fingers from the mark at his throat.  He raised the archer’s hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the palm before whispering, “Please, Clint.  Will you take me now?  I cannot wait much longer.  I  _need_  you.”

Clint’s eyes burned down into those of his god, and he couldn’t help the shudder that wracked his body at the way he said that word.  As if he might actually shatter apart if Clint withheld himself any longer.  If he took the time to examine it, he might have been terrified at being needed so very badly, but at the moment, he only wanted to give Loki what he was begging for.

Lowering himself down to lay atop his fallen god, Clint slid his fingers free and pushed his hips forward, pressing himself against Loki’s opening.  Those green eyes fell closed for just brief moment at the contact before opening again, holding Clint’s gaze as he entered him slowly.  His heat seared into him, and Clint’s body shook with a tremor he’d never felt before.

The lust, he was familiar with.  The burning ache within that always seemed present whenever his thoughts strayed to Loki, even when they were apart.  It was nothing new for him to feel that all-consuming  _want_  that turned to  _need_.

This, though, this was more than just need.  It was the first time he’d allowed himself to feel everything he’d been holding back, even from himself.  It was equal parts lust and what they both knew now was love.

Such a new feeling, Clint realized as he came to rest buried deep inside Loki’s tight heat.  He wanted to take his time, to explore this new part of himself.  It was just as well Loki felt the same, because Clint didn’t plan to rush this, no matter how pitifully Loki begged.

Their hips snugged tight together, Clint lowered himself down to his elbows, caging Loki between his arms, their chests pressed together until Loki’s breath caused Clint to shift, just slightly, within him.  Clint slid his fingers into Loki’s hair, holding his head still as their gazes remained locked, and Clint drank in each flicker of emotion in those wondering green eyes.

After long moments, he finally saw what he was looking for, as the need took over Loki’s face, the desperate desire to feel everything his Hawk had to give.  Only then did he begin to move within him, rocking forward until he could go no deeper, then pulling back just enough for him to thrust forward once again.

The look in Clint’s eyes as he held Loki’s gaze burned through the god.  

He had been the focus of a myriad of expressions at the hands of his Hawk.  Amusement, annoyance, anger, and everything in between.  But this?  This was completely new.  There was a softness to Clint that Loki had never seen before, and the knowledge that this was the result of the archer’s long overdue admission buoyed the god’s heart.

Loki raised his hands and slipped them over Clint’s, twining his fingers through those of the archer.  He uttered a breathy sigh as Clint rocked slowly into him, giving Loki exactly what he needed while wordlessly communicating the depth of his feelings.

Arching up against his Hawk, Loki canted his hips, opening himself wider to the slow and steady assault Clint was waging upon him.  A trembling moan rose in his chest, moving past the deepening ache in his throat to spill from slack lips.  

Clint dipped his head to capture Loki’s mouth, swallowing down that moan, and teasing his tongue over the god’s own.  He could feel the pounding of Loki’s heart against his chest, the trembling muscles of his thighs bracketing Clint’s hips, and beyond those small motions, the god was still beneath him.  

All of Loki’s focus was on feeling what Clint was gifting him with; allowing him to show what he struggled to speak.  Each languid thrust of his hips, every panted breath as he filled his god again and again spoke of the deep emotion he had kept hidden all along.  Loki was awestruck by this; he had known that Clint _wanted_  him, had suspected, no… _hoped_  that Clint loved him.  But he’d had no idea exactly what was lurking behind that steel blue sniper’s gaze.

And now that he was being shown the true depth of it, he felt he might break apart from the sheer joy.

Clint could see Loki was starting to lose it a little bit.  The way his eyes shone just a little too brightly, the hitch in his breath that had nothing to do with the slow, steady pace he’d set, and the tremble of his fingers entwined with his own.  It was no surprise to Clint that opening himself up to his emotions would have an effect on Loki, but he had underestimated just how profound that effect would be.

It was almost like their first time all over again, except _… more_.  Then, it had only been about their mutual attraction, a simple want that neither of them could deny.  This was so much more, so much deeper than perhaps even Loki himself had suspected.  Clint certainly hadn’t, not even when he could admit to himself that he had deeper feelings for the god than a mere desire to have him in his bed.  There was a difference between admitting to the feelings, and actually allowing himself to feel them, openly, without the constant need to pretend.

It seemed as though Loki could certainly feel the difference; Clint didn’t know what the god was seeing when he looked at him, but whatever it was caused such a transformation in him Clint almost didn’t recognize the creature beneath him.  Gone was the desperation, the almost pleading cast to his eyes that spoke of a need that Clint had yet to fulfill.  He knew now what that need was, what drove Loki to beg and plead and clutch at him so desperately, as if he wished to climb inside his skin.

When Clint gave Loki those words, he gave him the one thing - perhaps the  _only_ thing - that would chase his demons away, which would bring him the peace he reached for so desperately, always in vain.

It was no wonder the god was on the verge of tears.

“Stay with me, Loki,” Clint breathed against his mouth.  He stroked his fingers against his scalp, pulling Loki’s focus back to him once again.

“I’m here,” Loki sighed.  ”Exactly where I wish to be.  With you, my Hawk.”

Clint nipped softly at the god’s lower lip, feeling a surge of emotion at Loki’s words.  ”Good,” he murmured.  ”That’s just where I want you.  Always.”

Loki slid his hands up Clint’s forearms, over his biceps and laced his fingers against the archer’s nape.  The god rolled his hips, moving with Clint as he continued to drive deep and slowly withdraw, teasing such delicious pleasure from within him.  The small, breathy cries Loki had been uttering were giving way to louder, more insistent moans as the tension in his belly coiled all the tighter.  

Clint felt the tremors wracking Loki’s slim frame as his voice rose in ecstasy.  And that sense of pride washed through him that even at this lazy pace he was bringing his god to ruin.  Those glittering green eyes stared up at him, steadily maintaining contact and allowing the archer to see every flicker of emotion that roiled within.  And he poured every bit of his own into each motion he made, each grinding thrust.

The heat between them was growing unbearable, and Loki’s moans were edging toward sobs as he bucked his hips up, seeking blessed friction against his neglected length.  Clint dipped his head to mouth over Loki’s pale throat, laving that darkening bruise before moving higher.

“Mine,” he whispered, and then let out his tongue to trace along the shell of Loki’s ear.

The god shuddered beneath him, rolling his hips and moaning, “Yours, my Hawk.  Forever yours.”

Clint felt the muscles tighten in his lower belly, and he groaned against the side of Loki’s throat at the sound of those words, in that voice.  His next thrust was deeper, harder, and Loki sobbed a moan into his ear at the slick friction against his arousal.  Clint could feel the hard, hot line of his length between them, trapped and wanting and desperate for his touch.

One hand left its next in Loki’s hair to travel down, stroking over heated flesh and sweat-slicked skin to slide between them.  His fingers found him hot and slick and throbbing with the beat of his pulse.  When he took him in hand, Clint felt the god still beneath him, until even his breath froze in his lungs, before he truly came alive under his touch.

His hips surged up, pressing his length into the tunnel of his Hawk’s fingers.  Clint followed his movement, holding his hips above the bed to thrust into him deeper still, even as he tightened his hold around the straining flesh. 

Loki’s body tightened around him and he let out another of those sobbing moans Clint so loved to hear from him.  He surged into him again and again, stroking the god’s arousal in time with his thrusts.  The heat low in his belly grew with each deep plunge, each stuttering motion of Loki’s hips.  It was still Clint’s mission to slowly break him down, to take him apart piece by piece, but the heat and the tightness surrounding him, the sounds Loki spilled into the air between them, the sight of the bliss written so plainly across his face were all conspiring to sabotage his plans. 

He didn’t bother holding back his own sounds, low moans and hitching sighs panted against Loki’s throat, and when the god’s long slender fingers stroked through his hair, a rumbling groan thrummed in his chest.  Clint pulled back to look down into his god’s face, to watch him as they both came undone for the other.

Loki strained to stave off his release, wishing for the slow burn of their coupling never to end.  It had never been quite like this in all of their time together; this languid dance that transcended simple want and outstripped any previous show of need.  This was no frantic, violent rutting; no battle for dominance or show of submission.  

No.  This was so much more.

This was raw emotion, and trust, and wanting to give more than you took. This was joy, and acceptance, and most of all,  _love_.  And it was like nothing the god had ever experienced.

And just like that, the banner of heat in Loki’s belly spilled over, spreading a simmering fire throughout his body, and his breath hitched. He clutched at his Hawk, drawing him tighter to his trembling form as his hips snapped up, seeking the tight friction of the archer’s fist.

“Let me come for you, Clint,” Loki said in a broken whisper.  ”Please?  I’m so very close.”

“Is that what you want, Princess?”

“Yes.   _Please_?”

Clint moaned at the soft pleas spilling from Loki’s lips, and he bent to lick quickly across that mouth while giving a twisting pull to the god’s cock.  The stuttering wail from the man beneath him was nearly enough to pitch Clint over the edge himself, but he held back, intent on letting Loki lead the way.

“Then do it, Loki,” Clint murmured, eyes holding that pleading green gaze.  ”Come for me.”

It seemed that was all Loki was waiting for; for Clint to grant him his release, to deliver it with his own hands and body and those quietly uttered words.

Clint watched as Loki’s body seemed to unfold beneath him; his back arched and his head fell back, exposing the long line of his throat as the spiraling cry worked its way up and out.  The thighs caging his hips trembled as he strained up to meet his thrusts, hands turned to clutching vices over his shoulders, clinging to his nape, the nails digging in.  Clint moaned at the sting, at the heat and grasping pressure all around him as Loki fell over into bliss, holding himself back just long enough to watch the play of expressions over Loki’s face as he came for him.

It soon grew too much for Clint to only observe, and soon enough, he felt himself following after, tipping over that edge right along with his fallen god.  He pressed his open, panting mouth against Loki’s shoulder and let his voice out in ragged, gasping moans, echoed by Loki’s own.  The heat of his release spread between them, his body twitching with each stroke and slide of flesh over throbbing, wet flesh, and he whimpered at the slick friction.

Through the pounding of his pulse in his ears, Clint could make out the sound of Loki’s voice, moaning, whispering a litany of words, and it took him a few moments to realize what he was saying.

“My Hawk,” he gasped.  “My love.  _Mine.  Forever_.”

Clint could only clutch him tighter and nod, too overwhelmed to reply with words.  Loki’s claim touched something within him that was still too new and raw.  He knew what it was, he knew it was the most vulnerable part of him, and Loki had worked his way past every single wall and defense he’d built around it. 

It belonged to Loki now.

 


End file.
